Passion
by Ruse
Summary: Love...give...forgive. Risk the pain. It is your nature. Love will bring you to your gift. -BtVS (Final 2 parts--sniffle alert)
1. Chasms

Title: Passion - Prologue - Chasms   
Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*   
**_"And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us."_**   
_Luke 16:26 - The Rich Man and Lazarus **1**_

_He endlessly walked. Where he was he did not know at first, but slowly the memories came freely to his mind. Ardeth looked with great interest at the trees and plants around him--the loveliest things he had ever laid his eyes upon. Perfect in health and hue, fragrant and soothing. He wondered idly if he had died in some battle he could no longer bring to memory._

_His clothes were not his own, but fine and bright and clean. His hair seemed longer than before, but only by slight measure. The very ground he walked upon was soft and as gentle as rain. Ardeth made his way through the brush, seeking whatever would be found in such a place. His footsteps led him far to a place where darkness began to creep into the beautiful woods._

_His heart warned him against further travel, yet his curiosity won and he continued. What could possibly lay ahead that was terrible and dark? Surely nothing in such a place as lovely as this._

_But a voice called to him, a voice in such pain and need that his heart felt heavy. Quickly his steps fell to the dirt as he searched for that longing sound. If not for his keen senses he might not have stopped in time. Ardeth came before a wide chasm, vast and deep. He stopped just before it, kicking gravel down into the depths._

_The voice that called to him grew louder and more desperate. "I am here!" he yelled without willing it so, raising his eyes up to look across the chasm. What he saw troubled him. Fire and shadow and pain unimaginable._

_The cries grew louder. "Akhenre!" she screamed and his eyes darted and fell upon a girl with dark hair. Her hands stretched out towards him. "Save me, my love!"_

_Ardeth swallowed, watching Ancksunamun's torment. A wind brushed through his hair, a soft breeze he was certain she would not feel. Tears came unbidden to his eyes as she pleaded with him. "I will save you," he promised her, uncertain as to what to do. There must be something--some way he could rescue his love. He couldn't fail her again. He looked up and felt determination spread through him._

Ardeth awakened with a start. His body felt hot and moist, the condition brought about by troublesome dreams. His dark eyes looked up to the ceiling of his bedroom as he inhaled deeply. One month had gone by. One month away from the pain that had been enduring the life of his past. 

He threw back the blanket that covered him and removed his nightshirt, tossing it carelessly to the floor. He was too hot to bear them. It felt strange, wearing these English clothes and sleeping in this English house. The back yard was still pretty messed up--Evy's garden in ruins. His heart in ruins nearly. Ardeth Bay was unsure of where he belonged now. 

His people had been content with his defeating the priestess and were ready to welcome him back with open arms, but he wasn't ready. The very fact they had demanded such a task before his return had wounded him. So instead he had chosen to come here. These people had suffered with him and he with them in times passed. He felt a kinship to them unlike his own people. Of course that wasn't to say they replaced the Med-Jai; they were just different and what he needed right now. A break from responsibility and from the hurt he had caused and suffered. 

Rest seemed to not want him now that he had been startled from his dream. A month had passed with no sign the guilt and pain would return to him through dreams and now this. Too soon had he thought he would escape such visions, but it seemed now that his grief would fully surface as Evy warned him it would. That was something he most certainly didn't look forward to. Had the events of the past month not been enough for him to endure? Would life ask even more of him? 

Ardeth sighed and rolled from his back to his stomach, gazing outside at the softly lit tree outside his window. He felt anxious--more anxious than he felt he should. He never hid from his own emotions. He never let anything tear him apart so thoroughly. Yet every time he looked at his hands he saw Evy's blood and every time he heard his name it was Ancksunamun's voice that spoke. Now more than even the first day they had left that terrible temple. 

He sniffled and closed his eyes. His long-standing cold was nearly gone now, thankfully. One less thing to remind him. That small comfort bothered him, however. Why should a warrior such as he need refuge? He was taking all this too hard he thought. He was not accustomed to feeling so uncomfortable in his own skin. 

Never had he felt so changed, so raw. So weak. 

Not content to lay anymore, the Med-Jai pulled back the sheet that was his remaining cover and went to stand beside the window. The moon's gentle light washed over him and the chill from the window made him shiver. Winter was fast approaching, soon to blanket England in a trillion tiny stars. He thought again of the Med-Jai and of the home that waited for his return, welcoming however reluctant. 

Ardeth decided that perhaps living with snow for a time wouldn't be so bad.

*

**A/N: Teehee. :D Okay, with all the fics out there begging attention, the last thing I need is another one, but I can't help it. My inspiration goes where it will. So it came back to Fury, back to Ardeth and Ancksunamun. The language is that of Mordor, or rather I've been watching and reading Lord of the Rings too much, hence my writing style in that dream. ;) The other morning I even caught myself thinking in that flowery language. ;D So, before I break off into a zillion _Oooh Elrond's (God bless the earth, he's hot!)_, back to the matter at hand. Fury has reawakened, hopefully to the acceptance of my previous audience and perhaps a new one. :D Thanks for reading!!**

**I wanted to thank Fan of the Mummy for her enthusiasm as far as this sequel goes, and cacinapalermo for liking my first part well enough to stay up. ;) Also for past reviewers like RedLady, Buffelyn, Deana, Marcher, Lula, Mija and all the others that read Fury. :D Thanks! -Angela**

**1 - **my reference to the scripture in relation to this story is not meant to be irreverent. The story is that of a man that looked across a great chasm between Hades and Paradise (the place where the righteous dead go to await final judgment). He was looking from Hell, not Paradise as I depict Ardeth. I'm saying this so I don't offend anyone by my using the reference - it fits the theme I had wanted to take this story. I in no way mean to make light of the Bible - which I myself believe is God's Word. That said I hope no one will be miffed at me for using it. :) 


	2. Send Angels

Title: Passion - Chapter One - Send Angels  
Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

* 

The house wasn't cold and for that she was thankful. A nice, toasty warmth came from the nearby fireplace that made her want to cuddle herself into a chair with a good book and relax. Relaxation, however, was going to have to wait a while. She stood at the window watching a squirrel's morning antics, trying her best to ignore the little fight going on behind her. "Evy," Rick growled, bringing her into an argument she wanted no part of. "Evy, he's got it and I want it back. He's your freak. _Talk_ to him." 

Evelyn Carnahan turned around and looked at the offending member of their little so-called family. The eyes of Imhotep were as steel as he glared at the ex-Legionnaire. They were constantly at each other's throats for whatever petty reason either of them could think of. This time one of Rick's guns had turned up missing and since Imhotep had been in the general vicinity of his bedroom the day before, he was the candidate for the guilty party. "Honestly, Rick, you two are driving me crazy. I don't care where the gun is. I just want you both to be silent." 

Rick smirked at that, flopped down into a nearby chair and motioned to Imhotep. "Not like he'd have a problem with that." 

Sighing, Evy looked on her priest with sympathetic eyes. The scars that marred his throat were still visible and still held the ability to kill him if he so much as spoke a word. He lived a very precarious lifestyle now--especially with Rick living in the same house. Nothing the Med-Jai did could heal, break or remove the runes that prevented him from ever using his voice. Now Imhotep had taken to carrying paper and a pen with him, writing down his needs in hieroglyphs for Evy to read. Just now he was writing a message that no doubt would be concerning Rick. He looked up at her with puppy eyes, holding the paper for her to get. _What is wrong with him? I have done nothing and he attacks._

She handed the paper back and fixed a small glare on Rick. "What?" he asked her innocently, spreading his arms. 

"Rick, he doesn't even know why you're angry. Don't you feel even the slightest bit ashamed?" she retorted, sitting down on the couch beside the mummy. 

Rick shrugged and draped his leg across the arm of the chair. "I asked him where the gun was and he didn't answer. Not my fault." 

Sometimes the American--as she termed him when she was angry enough--really knew how to push her buttons. "You're being awfully childish about this. You know he doesn't understand English." 

"Evy," he breathed with a smart expression on his face, "life is hard." 

A chuckle from the doorway made them look up. Jonathan leaned against the frame and removed the oven mitts he was wearing. "What's all this? Ricky the Terrible picking on old Squeaky again?" 

His sister rolled her eyes at those nicknames. "You know I hate it when you call him that, though 'Ricky the Terrible' does have a nice ring to it." She stuck her tongue out at Rick and he returned in kind. 

Jonathan shrugged and looked around for presumably the fifth and usually first to awaken member of the family. "Where's Ardeth? I made my special biscuits and gravy and he's gonna miss it!" 

At this Rick's face grew serious and Evy sighed. O'Connell's bedroom was right next door to the Med-Jai's, so he would naturally hear if Ardeth were having a rough night. Ever since the Temple of Set their friend had been quiet and unassuming, as if his very presence were an imposition. This and his ever-increasing wish for solitude became a source of worry for his friends. Yet they were thankful he was here at all. At least he made _some_ effort to draw strength from someone, be it them instead of his own people. 

The Med-Jai had been a little harsh with him--or so Evy judged in her own mind. He had been broken by the evil works of an ancient priestess and for the simple fact that he felt compassion towards her, they had demanded a price for his return. Evy didn't pretend to understand all that the Med-Jai were about. It was too easy to judge his whole kind by simply getting to know him. Yet they had been willing to kill even innocents to protect the world from Hamunaptra. The old question of whether the needs of the many outweighed the needs of the few was a tough one, indeed, but she couldn't shake the word 'innocents' from her mind. Were they as honorable as Ardeth, or was he merely their finest example? 

He wasn't ready to forgive them and quite frankly, neither was she. Not that the latter was of any consequence, but for his sake she would counsel him to be careful with his heart until they were worthy of forgiveness. She couldn't bear the thought of him returning to cold glances and distrustful stares and warrior or not, he needed someone to trust him right now. Evy looked up as Rick spoke. "I heard him tossing around a little. Must have had a bad night." 

At that Jonathan grunted and turned back towards the kitchen, saying as he left, "Well, nothing like a big fattening breakfast to make a rough night's morning better, I always say." 

Rick snorted and looked out the window at the gray sky. It would rain soon. "You never said anything like that in your life." 

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jonathan called back. 

Evy smiled and returned her eyes to the window as a few little sprinkles started tapping the glass. It was a slow start, but she still turned her head to steal a glance at the priest beside her. As expected his eyes were already watching. Despite his first experience with it, Imhotep had confessed to actually liking the phenomenon and with liking came a bit of his wild side. The priest not only enjoyed watching the rain, but also going out into it as well and he almost always dragged her out with him. 

This morning he didn't make a move towards that and she was grateful for it. The smell of Jonathan's cooking was doing wonders for her appetite and parting with the meal for something as common in England as rain wasn't really an option. Her brother knew how to cook only two meals and this was the better of them both, so she wouldn't dare miss it. 

The heavenly scent coming from the kitchen had also drawn another down from the darkness of upstairs. She turned her head towards the hallway, listening as footfalls descended. Ardeth stepped off the last one and looked in on them. "Good morning," he greeted, hovering on the threshold of entering the room. 

"Morning, sleepy," Evy teased, watching him look at the window as the rain picked up. He moved to a chair and sat quietly, his eyes unreadable. "Did you have a rough night?" 

He drew an inward breath and nodded, running a hand through his dark hair. "I must have had too much coffee last night." Whether that were true or not, Evy couldn't guess. 

Instead she smiled and allowed him his privacy, turning her attention to the hand that was now curiously resting on her thigh. She picked it up and set it back in Imhotep's lap, winning a roll of his dark eyes. He raised his hands as if to tickle her, making her sides clench before his fingers even got there, but Jonathan's call stopped them both. Breakfast was ready. 

_*_

He was starting to look forward to the small things, starting to enjoy the English food and weather. He didn't know whether that should bother him or not. Ardeth Bay held his hands in his pockets as he stood there at the window, watching the rain. It was steady and slow, coming with no lightening or thunder. He wasn't sure if that were a good thing or not. Thunder and lightening had a way of reminding him of that night Meela had returned for him with her angel creatures, but it seemed that the absence of them during rain seemed to remind him as well. He would silently offer thanks that there was nothing to remind him, only to have the memories thrown back at him.

The rain was beautiful. It was clean and soft, like tears. He chided himself for his somber thoughts. Breathing out, he lifted a hand to the window and touched the glass, tracing the trail of a raindrop. Half the time he was fighting back those memories with a heavy heart, and the other half he felt impatient with himself. Didn't the passage of time usher in healing?

What was there to feel heavy about? He was alive and well, the danger had passed. Yet sometimes it felt as though his soul cried out. And his dreamscape did nothing to help. Waking up with the ache of Akhenre's feelings was beginning to grow tiresome. A week had passed since the first and every night since had brought more vivid visions and emotions.

He should not be feeling this way. Or maybe he should. He didn't know anymore. Evy told him pain was normal after such traumatic events, but he was a warrior! He had seen so much in his years, so much pain due to this and that. It had never affected him like this. How many others had he fought and received brutal treatment from? None of them had made such a mark on him as Meela.

Ardeth sighed and continued watching the water hit the window. Of course no situation had been entirely like what she had put him through, either. Never had he betrayed anyone he loved before. Never had he been so helpless. And perhaps that was what made this so frightening to him. He had been helpless to Meela and was now helpless to the useless, solemn feelings that ran through him. Why could he not get that woman's face out of his mind?

Outside Imhotep and Evy walked along a stone pathway that led to her gardens. This time she had at least convinced him to use an umbrella. He focused on them, wondering at the changes in the priest. How he could have gone from such a murderous monster bent on their destruction to this kind—if sometimes spoiled acting—person they allowed to live with them, he could not guess. The priest was a rash man, prone to feeling his emotions passionately and acting upon them quickly.

Ardeth was not a rash man, not usually. Yet he felt his hurts were irrational and pointless. Though he would never admit it to the others, it made him afraid of what would come. Where did he fit now? His thoughts drifted to his people and the life he had there. He missed it; longed for it like nothing he had ever desired. Yet he couldn't help feeling it was a closed door. Of course that was untrue. He could return to them any time he wished.

But it would not be the same. Nothing would be the same, it seemed, though it was his every wish. _What is wrong with you, Ardeth Bay? Who are you now?_ That was it in a nutshell. He felt he didn't know himself any more.

Rick came up beside him, gazing outside at the two forms playing in the rain. He grunted and leaned against the window frame. "Out taking Imhotep for his daily walkies, is she? Ever feel like life just can't possibly be real?"

Ardeth smiled at how ironic it was that Rick said that. "It does seem strange, does it not, my friend? They have an odd connection."

"Yeah," O'Connell agreed with a frown. "Odd." He looked at his friend. "How you feeling?"

That was one question Ardeth could do without. What could he possibly say that would put their minds at ease, when it must be the expression on his face that prompted the question in the first place? "Fine," he replied, not meeting Rick's eyes. "How about you?"

The ex-Legionnaire scratched his head and looked outside again. "I feel like having a beer. You want a beer?" He clapped Ardeth on the shoulder and nodded. "Of course you do. Let's go."

Shaking his head, the Med-Jai smiled and declined. "I am not thirsty, Rick. Thank you. Perhaps I will take a 'walkie', though. Care to join me?" He grinned.

Rick returned the smile. "You Egyptian's are nuts. I would have thought the idea of being soaked would sorta seem…not thrilling to guys like you."

Ardeth laughed at that, not exactly thrilled with getting wet, but not minding it either. "Sand and dust gets old after a while, Rick. Will you join me?"

The ex-Legionnaire shook his head at that, his blue eyes traveling thoughtfully to the window. "Nah. I kinda like feeling warm and cozy and _dry_. Maybe later if it clears up."

Ardeth nodded once and took another glance outside before starting for the door. He stopped at the coat closet and opened it, choosing his new black coat, long and definitely western. A gift from the Carnahans to keep England's weather off him. He sighed, slipping it on and opening the front door.

The rain had settled down a little, but fell enough to make him close his eyes as the coolness splashed against his face again and again. It felt good, in contrast to the sands of his home. Not that he missed Egypt any less, but he felt perhaps he needed a vacation from being Ardeth Bay—if even for a little while.

But a little while had already been a month. How long was too long? He held little doubt that his welcome would wear itself out in the Carnahan home. They weren't like that. Yet the fact remained that he could not hide there forever.

He exited the gates and began down the street, uncertain as to where he was going. England was pretty, shrouded in saturated tones of blue and green on any given sunny day. Today the sky was gray and stark, but no less beautiful in it's own way. This shade of stormy silver wasn't something he got to see in Egypt.

Ardeth wrote of those things in the letters he exchanged with Abdu, Omar and assorted other friends and family within the Med-Jai. He thought on the letters he received from them, bearing news and questions of how he was and when he was coming home. He always left the last unanswered.

Abdu had apparently caught the eye of a young woman, of whom the youth was dreadfully frightened. Now that wasn't to say he wasn't interested, but for all his young life Abdu had focused on becoming a great warrior like Ardeth. He had no idea how to approach girls. Ardeth had chuckled at the letter, wishing he could be there to watch the boy's antics. Omar mentioned in his own message that Lashami was sending definite signals that Abdu seemingly always failed to see. It was little things like this that made Ardeth homesick.

And it was the little things that made it seem so easy to forget everything and just go back, but his own heart would then begin to remind him of reasons not to. He exhaled, determined to put it out of his mind.

His walk led him some few blocks and the cars that passed made him sigh. He wished for solitude just now and even though he walked alone, it wasn't enough. Yet there was nothing he could do, but walk on. So he did, aimlessly and for some long amount of time before a path presented itself leading from the woods to his right. It was small and nearly worn away, but promised a more secluded walk than the street.

So he turned, brushing the long tree branches from his path. He shuddered to think what open battle would be like here in these woods. Enemies would be hidden, the ground unstable with brush, and being slammed into a tree wasn't particularly appealing either. That was one thing Egypt had over England, but of course it wasn't as if there were lawless raiders to worry about here.

Ardeth exhaled and continued on, heedless to the path that had left him behind long ago. He didn't care; needed to get away from everything. He was heedless to the dangers of such carelessness.

A sharp whisper stopped him dead in his tracks. He stood motionless for a moment, wondering if he had imagined it. Moments passed with no return of the sound and Ardeth chided himself. He was not a child. So he began again, crossing his arms before him and walking a little more quickly. The emptiness within him seemed to grow with each step.

_What is wrong with you? What kind of warrior are you?_ he thought to himself, furrowing his brow. The ache inside was irritating and frightening. But he could not put a stop to it, nor even find the source anymore. It simply was. It made him angry.

He stopped again. Mediums and sorcerers claimed they had preternatural senses that gave them certain abilities and he'd seen his fair share of strange things, but he didn't attribute what he felt now to anything unnatural or supernatural. Over the years a warrior simply grew to have an understanding of his surroundings. He learned how to attune his senses and it often clued him in on when he was being watched.

Ardeth couldn't claim to hear or see anyone, but his training told him he was not alone. A soft whisper, barely there, came from behind and he whipped around to see nothing. These trees made him anxious. "I know you are there," he said openly, inviting the stranger to come out and be done with it. The only answer was a picking up of the rain.

The woods remained silent and Ardeth gazed back in the direction he had come from. Perhaps being alone wasn't worth this. While there were no desert raiders, England—as any place—had it's share of pickpockets and muggers. He wasn't in the mood to face down a gang of thieves.

He began towards the road, that feeling at the back of his mind echoing loudly that someone was following. Drops of water fell from the leaves above, wetting his hair down and making him distinctly uncomfortable. From this far away Evy's hot tea called for him. That voice called for him too.

Agitated, the Med-Jai stopped and looked from side to side. He couldn't quite pinpoint from which direction it had come, but whoever it was was pretty close. "You will not want to fight me, friend. I suggest you play your trick upon someone who is untrained." He waited for any small sound, anything to reveal the location of his little 'friend'. There was nothing, no twigs breaking or breath. Only the sound of the rain. A crack of thunder made him jump.

Ardeth swallowed and swiped a hand over his wet hair, getting out of his face. He could swear the atmosphere breathed harm towards him and just now he was angry enough to welcome it. The woods illuminated with a lightening flash, followed by another crash in the sky. "Do as you will," he whispered, turning and surveying the forest. "Come and do what you came for and be done with it."

Another few moments passed as he stood there, his breathing shorter and his heart rate faster as grim anticipation settled in. He blinked back the rain and smoothed his hair back again. Anything would be acceptable but this continued, maddening silence!

Time passed and still nothing happened, but just as he decided to begin for the road again, a shadow crossed the corner of his vision. He turned his head to see it, but a wave of dizziness swept over him, knocking him back into a tree quicker than he could think. The woods around him began spinning and the whispering returned with a vengeance, harsh and rapidly talking words he couldn't make out.

He couldn't see anything, couldn't move or think much past the nausea he was feeling and the fear of what was happening. The dizziness brought him to his knees and all he could do was stretch his hands out in a feeble attempt to block off his attacker. It occurred to him that he likely wasn't dealing with anything human.

Each time he opened his eyes to try and see what was going on, his vision failed him. It felt like hands were on him, whispering touches across his skin. The voice spoke too quickly to discern. Of course it wasn't as if he could concentrate on such a thing anyway—his head and stomach ached beyond thought. He groaned and tried to pull himself up, anything to save his own life from whatever was out here in these dense woods, but his legs could find no strength. There was nothing he could do. He would die here instead of on the battlefield in his home country.

Then just as sudden as this incident seemed to start, it stopped. The voice was gone, the touching and presence. He was left feeling sore and sick, his body weak as if he had just broken through a fever. His strength faltered as he tried to get to his feet.

Ardeth hit the ground again, conscious now of only the raindrops that intruded upon his body as he lay there. Pretty soon even that was gone. The storm continued as blackness overtook him.

*

**Yay..another chapter! ;-) Long, like in 'Fury'. :O Lol. **

**_Pol_****, yes Elrond. ;-) Don't get me wrong…every day I look at this pic of Boromir on my desktop and think, "God, he's hot." _Montana_ and _Karri_, thanks for the enthusiasm!! :-D _Marcher_, thanks…I'm glad I'm at least semi in character…I've been a bit worried about that in this particular story..hehehe. _Deana_, thanks for your continued interest and for cheering me on AIM while I write. ;-) And _Lula_, thanks for being my first reviewer and for liking what you saw. I'm glad you don't think I went a little beyond what I should with that reference and I thank you for your kind words.**

**Thanks everyone who's reading and who may review in the future. You guys rock!!! :-D -Angela**


	3. Voices

Title: Passion - Chapter Two - Voices  
Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

It had been way too long. Evy paced back and forth between the hall and the main living room, worry furrowing her brow. Her eyes glanced out the window as she passed, taking note of two things; the sky was very dim and the storm hadn't slowed. Where was Ardeth? Rick had said he had looked a little sad before leaving. That had been a good seven or eight hours ago. It wasn't like him to leave the home for that long without telling them where he was going or calling.

The local authorities were keeping an eye out for him, but couldn't expend much energy on a search without further evidence that he was indeed missing and not just out and about. Precious time needed to pass, time that could leave Ardeth dying somewhere.

They had waged their share of supernatural fights against foes both ancient and powerful, so it seemed unreal to them that anything as common as street thugs could take their friend away. Yet they had received no word from the Med-Jai warning of new threats from old places. Evy frowned at the sky for daring to darken before their friend was returned home safely.

Rick, Jonathan and Imhotep were all three out searching for him right now, while she had remained in case he came back. Each moment that passed found her glancing towards the door for any sign that someone would enter. Evy bit her pinky finger and started towards it, then sighed and stopped herself. They would return soon enough without her staring out the door.

That thought didn't really curb her desire to go open the door. She wanted to be out there herself, looking for her friend. With a roll of her eyes, Evy finished the trip to the door and opened it. Only the darkness of her front yard greeted her. _That was what I expected,_ she told herself, then sighed. _No, I expected to see the four of them coming home. No doubt Rick would be making sarcastic remarks right now as they came up the walk._

She leaned against the doorframe, gazing out and paying no mind to the rain that fell on her. She was used to it well enough since Imhotep had moved in. Life was very different now. Sometimes she would look at her reflection in the mirror and see Nefertiri staring back. The priest's spell had given her many memories; little flashes into what she had been once. Ardeth also would be experiencing the memories and they weren't all very pretty.

Love denied him because Seti had kept Ancksunamun for himself. The poor girl had loved Ardeth's former incarnation, but wasn't free to express it to him without fear of death. And so it was with her lover, Akhenre. They weren't allowed to love and so the concubine had sold her soul and ruined not only her own life and Imhotep's, but also the life of that young Med-Jai who couldn't bring himself to betray Seti.

Morally Akhenre had been right in his choice, but in the grand scheme of things how could one not question their own decisions? The Med-Jai had suffered greatly then and for that Ardeth suffered now. Another possibility to his whereabouts crossed her mind, one she immediately dismissed out of desperation to believe he wouldn't go that far. He was somber, but things couldn't be that bad.

The clanking of the front gate jarred her from her thoughts and Evy looked up to see who was coming. There were no voices, so it couldn't be Rick and the others together. The person who came towards the home was having trouble walking, she could see. Her breath caught as his face was revealed in the moonlight. In an instant Evy was on the ground, running towards him. He didn't look good. Ardeth braced himself against her at the offered arms.

"Ardeth?" she questioned, concern writing over the urge to scold him for worrying them like that. "Are you okay? What happened?"

He swallowed and looked longingly past her shoulder, shivering as he stood with her. Evy gasped, feeling how wet his sleeves were. She pulled him into the house and helped him peel off the soaking jacket. "You're going to catch your death," she murmured, ushering him into the living room and straight to the fire. He sank down to the floor, his eyes grateful for the warmth. His quiet troubled her. "Have you been in the rain this whole time?"

Ardeth took a deep breath and looked up with a reluctant expression. He nodded his head, holding his hands towards the fire. "How long have I been gone?" he asked her, those usually strong, dark eyes betraying fear. That made her nervous.

"I don't know exactly. Some eight hours I imagine. You've been in the rain all this time?" His finally gone cold was going to return with a vengeance if that were the case. She watched him, wondering what on earth could have kept him out so long. "Ardeth, are you okay?"

When he looked up she saw uncertainty. That also made her nervous. "Evy, I don't honestly know. I…I walked into a small wooded area to think and got dizzy and passed out. When I woke up I could barely remember my own name, much less where I was. I can only thank God my memory returned."

Evy went to the couch and grabbed a blanket that was laid across the arm. Draping it over him, she sat on the floor beside him and watched him take in the warmth. While what he experienced must have been disorienting and frightening, she couldn't help but feel there was something he was leaving out. Something that was the true cause of that strange fear in his eyes. She wouldn't press him for it, though. "Can I make you some tea? Perhaps you should go upstairs and take a hot bath." The important thing right now was to get him warm.

Ardeth nodded tiredly and she began to get up, but his hand on her arm barred her. His grip was tight and she couldn't help but swallow at how lost he looked. He looked like he was puzzling through something he would rather leave in the dark. "Evy…" There was a pause as he presumably thought about what he was going to say, but she saw him dismiss it. "Nothing. I'll be fine here."

Her friend turned back to the fire, his eyes steadily watching the flames dance. The light reflected in his dark eyes, making the fear written there appear all the more worrisome. While her biggest emotion right now was relief at his safe return, confusion swept through her as well as concern for him. His less than detailed explanation of where he had been wasn't like him. Something felt horribly wrong.

Heading into the kitchen, she ran through the entire sequence of events. She couldn't recall ever seeing him look so, well unlike himself. He had been recovering from the traumatic things he had suffered from Ancksunamun and had his less than happy moments, but this was just odd. It was Ardeth and it wasn't.

She poured some water into a kettle and began heating the oven, not really sure if he. The front door opened and she abandoned her work, heading into the hallway where Rick was already removing his coat. He threw it over a chair and looked to Jonathan and Imhotep. "We couldn't find him."

Evy nodded her head quickly and she glanced into the living room. He was gone. The others frowned at her suddenly bothered expression. "He was…he…" She looked around and sighed in relief, spotting his blanket on the stair railing. "He must be upstairs changing."

The three men collectively looked upstairs as if it would allow them to see the answers to their questions. "When did he get back?" Rick asked her, returning his blue eyes to her face. His brow narrowed at her uncertainty. "What's wrong?"

Jonathan and Imhotep gathered closer, also removing their wet jackets and shoes, both intent on listening to her answers, both in English and Egyptian. She wished she could give them some, but nevertheless spoke in English first. "Just a few minutes ago." She bit her bottom lip and wrapped her arms together. "He didn't look good and told me very little. All he said was he had passed out in the woods and when he came to didn't remember much of anything. Rick, I think you should talk to him. He looked…upset."

The ex-Legionnaire glanced upstairs again and nodded slowly. "Okay. Be right back."

*

Ardeth sat in a chair, hugging a soft blanket to his cold, damp body. His wet clothes had been removed and tossed into the tub, and a fresh outfit covered him. He didn't know what to think about what had happened. Even now his memory was still a bit hazy, not to mention his senses and thoughts. His body ached with chill and all he wanted now was to sink into bed and sleep. But he owed them better answers than he had offered to Evy.

She must think him crazy, wandering to the house without saying much of anything and then giving scant details of where he had been for so long. The truth was he was exhausted and confused. His memory loss hadn't lasted much past a few hours, but things were still fuzzy around the edges. He could remember falling to the ground and the rain, and had a very vivid recollection of whispering, but little else than that came back to him. It was frightening to have a shadow in one's own mind. What was happening to him?

Apparently his attacker—assuming there had really been someone there—had done nothing to him. His pockets and wallet had been intact and certainly the damage he suffered now was due to an evening in the rain and not some physical attack. Why would a thief leave him without stealing his possessions? Had he imagined the whole thing?

His door was knocked upon and tiredly Ardeth looked up and called out, "Come in." Doubtless Evy had wondered where he gone off. It wasn't Evy that entered, though, but Rick. His blue eyes mirrored worry as he sat on the bed.

"Hey," O'Connell began, eyeing his friend thoughtfully. "I hear you had an exciting day?"

Ardeth inhaled deeply and allowed a smile to grace his features. He closed his eyes. "Hardly exciting. More like exhausting, terrible and very unwelcome to happen again." He paused a moment as Rick grunted, then reopened his eyes slightly to view his friend. Ardeth was unable to control the uncertainty in his voice. "I do not know what happened to me, Rick. I remember walking into the woods and losing consciousness. When I woke up my memory was all but gone and it wasn't for hours that it returned. I wandered London, pretending nothing was wrong and praying that somehow I would at least recall where I lived."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Rick inhaled and shook his head. "Wow. I…I don't know what to say. One thing's for sure though."

"What is that?"

Rick smiled a little wanly. "You ain't going anywhere alone for a while. That's if you aren't as sick as a dog for the next year and a half. Evy's gonna insist we take you to the doctor tomorrow probably." He leaned back on his hands.

At that Ardeth felt a little uncomfortable. There was sense in seeing a healer for wounds and illness, but even still he wasn't much for that unless he was bad off. He didn't like relying on medicine to heal him and he might have refused if what happened hadn't scared him. His life was filled with strange things that weren't him. Fear and need. He had never experienced these so deeply and so often. His mind swam in so many different thoughts that wore him out that he merely nodded and closed his eyes once more.

He felt Rick's eyes on him as he fought back sleep, his mind on Evy's tea downstairs. That thought drifted further and further away until Rick too left his notice. His body was starting to feel warm again, cozy and pleasant. Flashes of gold passed before his vision and the smell of sand entered the room.

_The night fell upon the sand and hands pawed at him from the desert floor. Ardeth lay there, seeing nothing and unable to move. Upon the wind a voice whispered words unintelligible as hands pulled at his body, drawing him down, down, but to where he could not guess._

_He thrashed from side to side, trying to fight back the terrible sounds that filled his ears. The air wept with mourning. "Leave me," he hissed. His reward was two strong hands that pulled his head down to the earth. He could feel those hot fingers on his forehead as if this creature was clawing at his mind._

_Sand was beginning to cover him. The hands were burying him alive. The darkness did not break, did not allow even the smallest vision to give him hope. He did not understand what was rapidly becoming, but knew well it was to some dark purpose._

_Ardeth slammed his hands into the ground, pulling sand up with his fingers and clawing the surface that threatened to cover him. The whispering grew in pace, it's voice hidden away from definition. Whether this was man, woman or beast, he could not tell. The force that pulled at him was malevolent and determined to see it's will done._

_"Please," he groaned, feeling sand enter his lips. He coughed and his lungs ached, almost burned. Something fought to cover him, to hide him away from the world outside his dreams. Ardeth fought until at last he could sit upright._

_But those hands, ever clawing and touching, drew him back down again and he could feel his will failing. He was losing the battle to an unseen foe._

Ardeth's head dropped and he awoke with a start. His room was now dark and the blanket pulled against his neck, nearly strangling him. He pushed it down and looked around him, desperately seeking some source of light to quell the darkness that fell over him. The window brought relief as the moon greeted his eyes. Precious sight had not been taken from him.

The feelings of the dream were still very near and only added to his worries concerning whatever was going on. Is this what insanity felt like? It was true that lately he wasn't feeling himself, but losing his mind seemed just a tiny bit far-fetched. He wanted to tell the others and receive some comfort from them, perhaps some suggestions and answers, but a part of him didn't want them to know about this. He could only imagine the jokes about lucidity that would issue from both Jonathan and Rick.

He groaned and stretched in his now uncomfortable chair, noticing with some irritation that an ache had settled into his muscles. He had a fever. That was always wonderful. Obviously life wasn't going to go easy on him anytime soon. He could do without feeling sick again.

Tiredly he pushed himself up and removed his shirt and pants, content to crawl into bed as he was. Ardeth didn't even bother to bury himself into the blankets, but simply crashed to the softness and looked once more to the window for reassurance that his dream had been only just that. Still the fear and sorrow of that vision lingered within, making sleep difficult now. If some English doctor could take these strange occurrences away then by all means he would see one.

As sleep started creeping back into his body he couldn't help but feel apprehensive. Something was wrong with him and he had the distinct feeling that a good night's sleep wouldn't see an end to it. Something was happening.

But as apprehensive and jarred as he felt, he was again finding it difficult to maintain consciousness. He began drifting again and with that came the voice. He would give anything if it would shut up long enough to let him rest, but it stayed, ever whispering it's evil words. It kept his mind dark.

*

**Against my better judgment I decided to go ahead and get on with this, since it and another story I'm working on have captured my inspiration. My poor Buffy and Trek fics…lol. Heck, my poor other Mummy fics…my next one is even taking over more than this. Lol. Oye.**

**Anyhow, thanks to _Deana_ who cheers me on and always runs her ideas by me. I appreciate it! Thanks to _Karri_ for her enthusiasm through _Deana_ on AIM. :D Nice to know people are wondering. :-) _Lula_, thanks for your review also…I'm pleased the tension I had wanted to come across did. I had just seen Signs, so blame that. ;-) _Cacina_, who can know where minds go? I haven't a clue where mine went so long ago. ;-) Thanks! Thank you _Marcher_ and _Montana_, yes poor Ardeth can't keep out of harm's way, can he? There's just something about him that begs to be written like that.**

**Thanks everyone!!! :D You all rock, my reviewers and my readers. :D -Angela**


	4. Battle Of Wills

Title: Passion - Chapter Three - Battle Of Wills  
Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

Doctor Johnson was a quiet and moody old man who scrutinized Ardeth through a thick pair of glasses. Moody though he was, he did treat him okay and was thorough in his examination. Ardeth didn't think he cared too much for this English medicine, however. The exam was a little more invasive than a Med-Jai healer, for they attended the problem at hand and only that. This man seemed to leave no part of Ardeth without at least a question.

He sighed, wishing this man would stop and let him rest against the wall. Ardeth still felt very tired, though the fever seemed to have passed for the morning. Johnson grunted, grabbing another tool off his little table. "Hold still," said his gruff voice as he moved closer.

Ardeth winced when he stuck the little instrument in his left ear and breathed loudly, looking through the glass. For what seemed like an eternity the man stared through his ear until Ardeth wondered if the old doctor was trying to make it out the other side. He licked his lips and Bay felt his fist tighten. This little man was noisy. Finally he stood back and furrowed his brow. "Healthy as a horse," was his prognosis. He grabbed a rag and started wiping his ear device. Shaking his finger warningly, Doc Johnson frowned and continued. "You say you were out in the rain all day, hmm? You'll bloody well feel it tomorrow likely. You kids think it's just fine to put your bodies through whatever you think you can take. Bollox! Mark my words, boy, you'll be face down in the latrine by the end of the week."

There wasn't much Ardeth could think to reply, except the amused smile that now crossed his lips. "And how shall I avoid that?" he asked.

The doctor shook his head, an almost wicked grin entering his expression. "Can't. You'll be wishing you were dead by tomorrow, I'd wager. I'll give Evy out there some medicine to make you take, since you have the look of a man who won't do as is sensible until right at the very last." He hobbled to a cabinet and opened it with great effort, fishing through it's contents. "You come from one of those desert countries, huh? I'm the first proper doctor you've seen, am I right?"

Ardeth rolled his eyes at the eccentric man. "We have healers in Egypt and I'm sure Cairo has doctors as reputable as you."

The little man only grunted, hefting a white bottle and peering at it closely. He nodded in satisfaction and turned back. "Hop down. I've got the stuff. Won't stop you from getting sick, but it'll help." He motioned for the door and went on without Ardeth.

With a sigh, Ardeth got off the examining bed and headed towards the door, opening it for Doc Johnson. He went through with a grunt and headed towards a smiling Evy. "Hello again, Doctor. How is my friend doing?" she asked.

Johnson shrugged and handed her the bottle. "I can't find anything wrong yet, but we're working on it." He pointed at the bottle with a stern face and Ardeth grinned. "Don't you let him get away from taking this, Evy. It tastes as vile as death, but he'll manage if he's as tough as he looks. I don't know what caused him to blank out like that, but keep him indoors if at all possible." He looked around as Evy nodded, shrugging at Ardeth. "Is that senseless brother of yours around?"

"I'll thank you, but I'm not senseless," a very annoyed voice called from the reception desk. Jonathan leaned over it with an enthusiastic smile, peering at the nurse seated there. He swirled a sucker around his mouth and grabbed another from the desk, throwing it to Ardeth. "Best part of the trip."

Johnson hissed in a breath and snatched it from the Med-Jai with a firm expression. "No sweets."

Sticking out his tongue, Jonathan grabbed another few and stuffed them in his pocket with a wink at Ardeth. Evy heaved a long-suffering sigh and held her hand out to Doc Johnson. "Thank you."

The old man actually genuinely smiled and Ardeth thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. He reached out and pet Evy's shoulder, then shrugged. "Thank an old man with money, dear. Consider the bill already in the mail." He turned a hard eye and a crooked finger on Ardeth. "Dry good, wet bad. Keep that in mind and you'll live as horribly long as I have."

Ardeth laughed and shook the man's offered hand. "I'll remember that. Thank you."

Johnson grunted and turned back towards his office, bothering a glance at Jonathan. He frowned and grumbled to himself as Carnahan joined his sister and friend. "I say. Grumpy old coot."

They left the small building and headed towards Jonathan's car. Ardeth looked around at the bright, rainless sky. It cheered him some, but his body was grateful when it was allowed to rest in the comfortable back seat of the car. Evy climbed into the back with him and took his hand. "You'll be okay."

He nodded and closed his eyes, breathing, "I know." He gave her hand a little squeeze and let it go. He could remember Nefertiri now, a young girl that Seti had entrusted him with some few times. She had taken to him, calling him the brother she never had, for Rameses was cold and distant towards her. In some ways he could feel those same feelings towards Evy, especially where the priest was concerned. Theirs was an odd relationship, he thought. Imhotep had been tamed, or so they figured. Ardeth couldn't help but wonder what would happen if something were to take Evy away from him.

He opened his eyes again, watching the scenery pass as they neared closer to home. His ever-present worry had abated with daybreak, but he still dreaded the night's return, fearing it would bring back the voice that spoke to his mind. He should be telling someone, even just Evelyn of this, but something in him always balked at the idea. It wasn't as if insanity was something one wanted to share with their friends and family.

Overall he felt normal and if he acted strangely the others didn't show that they knew it. But did one know when they were losing their mind? It was not something he personally had experience with. There were so many questions, so many things to worry about just now. He just didn't have the strength to face them.

Already he was started to really feel the effects of the flu he was likely to get from being out yesterday. His body was sending some fairly obvious suggestions that sleep would not be a bad idea. Jonathan pulled into the manor and parked, getting out and opening his sister's door. Ardeth climbed out of the car and looked up at the house, so natural and familiar now. Stepping up beside the Med-Jai, Jonathan produced a sucker from his pocket and handed it to him, saying, "These are good."

Ardeth peered at the candy, then removed the paper wrapping. It was bright red and smelled like fruit. Having a small stick protruding out of one's mouth wasn't a more dignified way to be seen as Jonathan was currently demonstrating, but Ardeth shrugged and stuck the sucker into his mouth and nodded his approval. Evy hid a grin when he glanced in her direction, then looked around her. "Look at all these leaves," she sighed, shaking her head at the littered driveway. "England in the fall can be a trifle messy."

He shook his head as they began for the house. The beauty of it all was not lost on him. The grass was bright and green, but the trees had changed color. Hues of gold and auburn and leftover green surrounded them, backdropped by a pretty blue sky. Somehow he was reminded of Meela.

It struck him as they entered, a memory of Ancksunamun smiling against the sky above. Ardeth blinked and removed his coat, giving it to Jonathan. Why was this so hard?

From out of the living room came a set of footfalls and the priest stepped out, his brow narrowed. He pointed ominously upstairs and held up a paper accusing Rick of being insane. Then he looked to Ardeth, cocking an eyebrow at the stick coming from his lips. He looked into the Med-Jai's eyes questioningly, pointing at his chest and waving a hand. Imhotep's sign language was grand and to the point. "The doctor says I will be sick," Ardeth told him, speaking the ancient tongue as he removed the candy. "I have medicine."

Imhotep gave him a sympathetic expression and for a moment his eyes held that same familiarity that was lost upon Ardeth. There were few memories given him of encounters between the priest and Akhenre, and during those few moments Ardeth could perceive that the Med-Jai hadn't been too comfortable with Imhotep. Akhenre was genuinely fond of Nefertiri and knew very little about the priest of Osiris, save that he was generally a wise advisor and ruthless fighter when called to battle. He was a strange man that showed little of his feelings in public. Akhenre wasn't sure he cared for Nefertiri consorting with him so often, but of course the affairs of the royals were not his.

Feet fell upon the stairs as Rick came down, his eyes moving to Ardeth in question after a brief glance at Imhotep. Ardeth supposed that being a friend of Nycolaus, he might have been a little biased for his friend's sake. After all Akhenre knew what it was like to care for a woman who wasn't free. Those dark eyes flashed through his memory once more and he found his pulse rise momentarily. This should not be on his mind.

"So?" Rick said, eyeing him speculatively. "What's wrong?"

Ardeth shook his head, wishing for an answer both for himself and his friends. He wouldn't necessarily admit to it without proof, but he had a bad feeling about all that was happening to him. Of course anyone would be uneasy if they were left in the dark hearing voices and feeling hands. Rick was waiting for him to reply. "The doctor was unsure why I would faint suddenly, given that I had no other symptoms, but he said he would look up a few things in his medical journals. As for being out in the rain…I will soon be ill, he predicted."

Searching her coat pockets, Evy pulled out the white bottle Johnson had given her and gave it a shake. "That reminds me, Ardeth. It wouldn't hurt to start taking this."

His dark eyes moved down to the bottle and he found himself a bit apprehensive. Unnatural medicine like this was not used in the Med-Jai encampment, though once or twice in Cairo he had been granted the displeasure of tasting some at a doctor's insistence. It was not an experience he looked forward to enduring again, but Evy wasn't the sort to allow him escape from this. "I think I'll take a nap," he breathed, looking up with a small smile.

She shook her head, pointing the bottle at him. "You're not afraid of a little medicine are you?"

Rick smirked at Ardeth. "She'll moosh it up in your mashed potatoes if you don't take it, you know." Evy elbowed his side.

"I will take it. I promise," he told them, backing away. He felt very tired just now and the need to be alone. "Please allow me some rest first. I doubt a few hours will matter."

Evy nodded her head, every bit the princess he could recall from so long ago. She removed her coat and went to the closet. "You can take it with your dinner, then." She peeked around the door. "Rest well, Ardeth. You _will_ take the medicine."

Laughing, Ardeth nodded and headed towards the stairs wearily. "I will take it. Thank you."

The stairs offered solitude within the safety of his bedroom and Ardeth felt grateful for it as he disappeared within the dimness of hallways. He never used to be that way, taking comfort in being alone most of the time. The change bothered him, worried him for himself. Something was wrong with him, but he just didn't know how to change it.

He could hear it again. Already the voice started on him, tearing away at his sanity. If he weren't already crazy he was going to be soon if he didn't figure this out. Ardeth pushed his bedroom door open, then closed it behind him and sank onto the bed without removing his clothes. He laid down after setting his sucker on the nightstand.

Closing his eyes seemed to make the whispering louder, but at the moment he just didn't have the strength to care. He only wanted sleep.

*

Evy sat quietly on the bench in what was left of her garden, hard at work on painting her toenails. Imhotep frowned at the smell of the paint she was using, but stuck around. A paper slid across the seat and bumped against her hip. She looked down. _You are worried, my queen._

Smoothing a lock of her dark hair behind her ears, she nodded and looked up at him. Not for the first time she wondered when life had gone crazy, when she had let herself care for this monster turned man. "Yes, I am. He's my friend." Imhotep wasn't too jealous of a man because he had confidence he could kill any other man that gained too much of her attention. 

The priest took his paper back and held the pencil uncomfortably. She hated that for him. What it would be like to suddenly lose one's voice she couldn't imagine, but the frustration in his dark eyes was never lost on her. Imhotep slid the paper back. _Akhenre was your friend as well. He is strong and will prevail because he has us._

A little grin met her lips as she looked up from the paper and met his eyes. "You too?"

He leaned closer, marking the paper where it was beside her. _Things change. Feelings change. I can be his friend if he will allow it._

Since the temple their relationship had calmed down, much by her own decision. She was very certain she wanted to explore this with him and find out if happiness could be gifted them, but she wanted to do it rationally. Imhotep was fine with that, too, but apparently rationality didn't include a halt on the more intimate aspects of love. To her it did, at least slowing it down so they could think past infatuation and lust. So it wasn't every second of every moment she allowed him deep kisses, but right now she felt the moment called for it. She leaned over and brought his face to hers, ignoring that uncertainty she was growing out of and kissed him.

When she pulled away he began writing again. She looked down and exhaled at his words. _Do you love me, princess?_

"Yes, I believe I do," she replied with a fond smile, sitting back and looking him over. "I can't tell you I think it's sane, but it's there."

Imhotep grinned at that, pleased by her affectionate mood and wrote again. His expression when he looked up was mischievous and daring her to prove her love. Immediately she guessed what he wanted, but humored him and read it anyway. _Will you then teach me your words so I can understand that intolerable Greek you keep here at our home?_

That wasn't exactly what she expected and Evy had to laugh. Resting her hand on his shoulder, she nodded her head and smiled at him. "I'll teach you. Maybe I can even teach you our alphabet, so you can argue back."

Imhotep leaned in close again, pulling her neck forward for another kiss, but a sound stopped them both. A cough. They both looked up and Rick stood above, his eyes cast away and his stance a little stiff. She was going to have to have a little conversation with him soon. "Look, I didn't even wanna do it, but your brother insisted I try. He and I are going for a beer and thought the freak would want to come. Jonathan can read Egyptian, right?"

Swallowing, Evy backed away from Imhotep a little and nodded. She didn't feel it necessary to flaunt she and Imhotep's relationship in front of Rick, so she avoided intimate contact whenever she could. "Yes. Are you sure you want to take him, Rick? I don't have to offer it if you would rather he stay home."

Rick scratched his cheek, looking a little guilty. He wasn't without caring for her wants and needs, and sometimes in his own way tried to be okay with the priest for her sake. "No, he can come if he wants. Maybe if I'm lucky he'll get into a fight at the bar and," he looked into her disappointed face and smiled innocently, finishing with, "survive. See? Rick be nice."

She laughed lightly and shook her head, then translated the offer to Imhotep. He held his head high, that proud priest of Osiris rising to the surface as it usually did with Rick and nodded warily. Evy started on her toes again as he stood up. "Be good," she said in English.

"Sure," Rick replied as he and the mummy headed back into the house. "We'll just stop by your office for some _paper_." Evy chuckled.

*

_The hands pawed at him, drawing him into the sand once more. It was everywhere. He could feel the tiny grains grinding into his arms and legs and back, filling his clothing as the surface caved in on him. Still Ardeth fought, unwilling to let this fight end here._

_A voice whispered. One voice with a determined tone. It was male, he could finally see, speaking low words that Ardeth started to understand as being Ancient Egyptian. Hands yanked and pulled at him and the darkness hid his vision. Was he blind or was there simply no moon or stars to testify that light could still reach him?_

_Ardeth groaned and thrashed from side to side, breaking the grip of a hand only to have it replaced by another. The night suffocated him and his body was growing nearly too weary to fight back._

_He had the sensation of knowing someone knelt by his side, the same knowing that comes from dreams. A hand rested against his shoulder and commanded the hands to cease their pull. The voice was his own. His shoulder felt heavy with the weight of this man's grip. "Ardeth," he said gently, a voice filled with command and mercy. "Ardeth, why do you fight me so?"_

_Shaking the sand from his hair and begging his eyes to see, Ardeth gasped for air and said, "Who are you?"_

_The hand left his shoulder, but the presence remained. He seemed to be sorrowful. "Ardeth, you and I have done something terrible. We must repair it. I can bear her suffering no longer."_

_Instantly Ardeth tensed, wondering and suspecting what this person, this former life was talking about. "You are Akhenre. You are doing this to me."_

_"Do not fight me, Ardeth Bay. You must not fight me." The words were quiet and almost pleading, but firm. "I can stop what is happening, but you must accept what must be."_

_Ardeth shook his head, wanting desperately to wake up. His heart raced as he searched for a way to fight this man, to break whatever spell was being laid on him. "I will fight you," he promised, trying to sit up and get out of the sand he was being buried in._

_Akhenre pushed him down firmly, holding Ardeth in place as he continued. "What life have you, wasting away with Nefertiri and her friends? You are not the man you once were. A girl suffers and I can stop it, but no longer am I of the living. Do not fight me, Ardeth Bay. You could do good again if you would but accept my offer."_

_The hands crept back from the sand and rested on him again, clawing and pawing in the want to obey their master. Breathing deeply, Ardeth clenched his fists and tried desperately to see something, anything. There was no vision granted him. "And what is this offer?"_

_This time the voice was further as if Akhenre had stood. "I offer you the chance to be worthy again. You can agree, or you can be driven mad by your grief and weakness." His voice was no longer gentle. The ancient paused for a moment and when Ardeth failed to reply, he sighed. "Take him," he commanded._

_The hands delightedly began pulling at him again, drawing him back into the ground. Ardeth fought them, fought the fear and sorrow as the warm sand surrounded him. Akhenre's words echoed through him over and over, and under normal circumstances he likely would have ignored them. But these were not normal circumstances. The weight on his shoulders was becoming too hard to bear anymore. He considered giving in…_

His eyes flew open and he lay there for long moments, reorienting himself with the world around him. His fists clenched the sheets below his body and his breathing came hard. Sitting up, his eyes met the window to the left of his bed. The sky was just beginning to grow dim. Night would fall in a few hours.

He climbed from the soft bed and glanced around him, feeling lost. There were two doors, one leading from this room and another leading to a washroom as he could recall. But which was which? He chose the one to the right of the bed and the first thing that came to his attention was the great mirror.

Drawn to his reflection, he entered and touched the mirror, tracing his tattooed face and dark hair. He searched everything within him, trying to find anything: a name, a place. Very few memories returned to him that were of consequence, but one name held his fascination. _Ancksunamun._

*

Hehe…well, idn't that lovely? Thank you reviewers!!!! **Pol**, I never was either…and I honestly just have noooo idea where it came from in Fury. ;) I'm probably the only nut out there that ever considered it, but it just fell into my lap. Lol, thanks! **Marcher**, thanks for saying you enjoyed the way I write Ardeth…sometimes I wonder if I'm getting him right, as I've prolly said before. Lol. **Mommints**, I'm flattered that you say so…thanks a bunch!! **Deana**, thanks for suggestions and enthusiasm as usual! You rock! **Fan of the Mummy**, thanks for reading and reviewing…your persistence in asking about a sequel in Fury helped spur this on. :-D **Lula**, YES GOD YES it would be nice to comfort Ardeth. Where is the matrix when you need it…I'd let those machines take all the energy they wanted if they'd give me Ardeth. ;-) Yeah…they prolly wouldn't think he was crazy, but I'd worry about that myself if I were hearing voices. Thank you muchly!! **Cacina**, yeah I know. ;-) Odd idn't it? Thanks! **Karri**, yes, I thrive on making people wonder what's gonna happen next. ;-) Muahahaha! Thanks!

And thanks to others who may be reading and enjoying, but not reviewing. Hope I'm doing well. :-D -Angela


	5. The Other Face

Title: Passion - Chapter Four - The Other Face   
Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

Evy stood within her library, searching through her many books. The boys were still gone--all but Ardeth, and she needed to research something for her work at the museum. Upstairs her friend slept, likely worn out from the day's events. She worried for him. Sighing at that, Evy pushed her glasses onto her nose and opened a small book. Immediately, her eyes fell upon Seti's name and a face came unbidden to her mind. Not that of a king or some ancient Egyptian long gone, but of a man she called father.

She pushed that out of her mind, determined to let an hour go by where she wasn't confusing herself with some long dead princess. A noise from the entrance startled her and she gasped. "No need to be afraid," said a calm voice.

Evelyn smiled and looked up at Ardeth as he entered, his eyes intent and curious. He looked almost happy. "Feeling better?"

Ardeth approached slowly, occasionally glancing around him at the surrounding bookcases. His smile was soft and strange, almost as if he were seeing her after some long time had passed. He looked at her reading glasses curiously, but said nothing of it. "Yes, I believe I am feeling much better. What are you doing?"

Rolling her eyes, she held up the book. "Research. Duty calls at the museum." She eyed him speculatively. "Perhaps I could get you some work there if you would like. That is if you want to." Evy could never be sure of what would make him worry or hurt or add to his pressures. The last thing she wanted was for him to believe working would be a requirement. Beni's little gifts had afforded her the ability to take care of her friends and she would do just that for as long as they needed.

He held her gaze and considered her words and possibly more as well. There was a different air about him she thought. Something familiar and yet altogether different. "Perhaps," he said simply, those ever-gazing eyes never breaking from hers. There was definitely something different about him. Ardeth reached for her and unconsciously she backed away, but he took no offence. His fingers removed the glasses from her face and he examined them thoughtfully. "The others that live here—where are they now?"

Evy's brow furrowed at his choice of words, but she shrugged it off. "Out," she told him, wondering if his predicted fever were beginning to set in. She laid her hand on his brow and frowned at the coolness of his skin. "They're likely getting drunk as we speak. Ardeth, are you feeling okay?"

His smile was chiding as he handed her eyeglasses back. "Do not waste worry for me. I am quite well." Ardeth's speech was slightly more formal than Rick or Jonathan's, but something about the way he was speaking now struck her oddly. Quite suddenly she wished he were still upstairs.

Not that Evy by any means thought harm would come to her by his hands, not unless he were under some black spell once more, but something about him made her uncomfortable. There was a determination in those dark eyes that had not been there in over a month. A moment passed as he watched her work her way through her thoughts, then he said, "I wish to return to Egypt and I want you to join me."

That surprised her a little. She could see it in his eyes, before, when he read his letters from home. There had always been a small guilty dread written on his face as if he knew he were expected, but did not want to go. Still, if this helped him heal she neither would nor could stop him. But it _would_ be handled sensibly. "All right," she replied, choosing to ignore for now that he wanted her to go with him. "We will go to Egypt, but I want to wait and see what happens. I'll not have you returning half dead and too ill to do anything but sleep."

His eyes changed and grew hard, and he looked down on her with a strange strength and firmness that he had never used with her before. His eyes did not leave hers as he told her in low, commanding tones, "We will not wait. There is something there I must do and I cannot be detained. We will go tonight and seek a way to leave this country."

"Okay," she breathed, her unease with him growing. Her heart rate rose at his unending gaze. If ever a time she needed the others to conveniently burst in at the right time, it was now. Perhaps Rick could talk some sense into their Med-Jai friend. "We'll just wait for the others and talk to Rick about leaving."

He shook his head and she swallowed. "No. The others are not needed." His resolve was firm.

Ardeth stood between she and the freedom beyond this room, and behind her stood a bookcase and a table. If she tried to get past him he could easily stop her if he so chose. Would he do that? Would her friend bar her from leaving? Evy turned from him nervously, quite aware that he still stood close behind. Unable to believe herself or him, she looked around for something she could use against him if the need came. On the table there was only a book and a small, silver model of the Great Pyramid. He was waiting for her to either agree or make a move. She decided on the latter and went for the heavy model.

She managed to get it in her hand, but before anything else could happen his arms were around hers, holding hers to her sides. There would be no breaking his hold. He was just too strong.

Evy did not go without a fight, however, throwing herself from side to side in the hope of knocking him off balance. She wouldn't wish sickness on any of her friends, but right now it would be helpful if he were to become too weak to fight her. But there was no such gift from irony. Ardeth held her to him tightly and dragged her from the library.

They fought each other through the hall and into the sitting room where he freed one hand to jerk the phone cord from the wall. Her heart ached thinking of what he meant to do with it. Desperately she again tried to break his hold, but it was no use. He pulled her with him to the front door and she kicked over a table. Rick and Imhotep and Jonathan would have no idea where they were. Then she remembered the model in her hands. Praying to God one of them would take the hint, she dropped it beside the door as he pulled her out into the evening breeze.

They had taken Rick's car, leaving Jonathan's ripe for the taking. Her brother always left his keys right there in the seat and the doors unlocked, trusting that no one would bother it. Ardeth must have recalled that because upon noticing it, he stopped heading for the gate and yanked her towards it. He held her tightly as he ripped the passenger side door open and shoved her in, pushing her into the driver's seat and climbing in himself. "Drive," he told her, his dark eyes watching for the return of their friends.

Evy's hands were shaking as she fumbled in the dimness for the keys that lay between them. She picked them up and started the car, not sure what he would do if she spoke. What on earth could have happened to him? What made him do this? Meela was dead and her spell long worn off. "W-where do you want me to drive?" she asked him in a trembling voice. It wasn't as if she hadn't lived her own fair share of danger, but that night now flew back into her memory, forgiven but not forgotten. What if…?

His hands still held to the phone cord as he glanced from the gate to her and back again. "We will decide that once we are on the road. Drive now, or I will bind you."

She nodded, unable to bring a voice to her lips again. Evy pulled out and with a lump in her throat, left the safety of her home for the open road. She turned left at the gate, not sure where he would want to go and he made no argument. There was a pub nearby and with any luck perhaps Rick and the others would be in the parking lot.

They weren't. Sure enough Rick's car sat near the door, but she did not dare stop for fear of him. What was going on, she could not guess, but she wouldn't make him do something that would cause him guilt later. He was not himself right now, but would be soon hopefully. For now she would do as he wanted and perhaps talk him through this. Licking her lips and getting a hold of herself, she breathed, "What's wrong, Ardeth?"

He turned his head, looking at her sharply. "Why do you ask?"

Evy rolled her eyes and waved her hand. His question irritated her, made her angry that this was happening. "Oh, no reason! You always drag me through my own home and out for a drive!"

Ardeth's dark eyes softened a little at her attitude, but he did not back down from his wants. "My reasons are mine alone. Do as I say, child."

She slit her eyes and held her tongue, driving to only God knew where. Why were these little things always happening? She gripped the steering wheel until her fingers tingled, fear and anger and worry spreading through her. Tears threatened to fall but she held herself in check. Crying would have no effect on him right now, so through gritted teeth she asked, "Where do you want me to go? I can't drive around England all night."

"We must find a place to hide this night," he replied, gazing steadily out the window. He seemed to be searching for something, but what she could not guess.

Just where were they supposed to hide, anyway? It wasn't as if there were hidden cities lying around England. She had not even had the chance to get her jacket or purse, so unless Ardeth had money they were broke. Heaven knew Jonathan certainly didn't have any cash in here. "How do you plan on paying for travel?" she asked him, hoping to jar him into the reality that this was foolishness.

A point well made, Ardeth reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet. Taking the money out, he frowned and studied as if he weren't sure how much it was. It would perhaps buy them a room, nothing more. The amount registered to him after a few moments and he grunted, closing the wallet. "We will get more. We need only hide tonight, Princess."

Her grip on the wheel tightened slightly and she glanced at him in surprise. "What did you call me?"

Ardeth didn't reply or meet her eyes, but she wouldn't forget this little lapse. Princess? Ardeth never called her that, never would. The only two people that had ever referred to her as that were Imhotep and Ancksunamun. Evy risked another glance, meeting his dark eyes. "Who are you?"

*

Singing drunkenly, Jonathan watched the scenery that passed on the way home. Rick was so very annoyed right now, muttering darkly about having to be the responsible one. "A guy can't get decently drunk anymore," caught Carnahan's ears and he chuckled.

"You could have gotten drunk, Rick. All the beer in the free world was right there." Jonathan rubbed his belly and rested his head back.

Rick grunted and held the steering wheel aggressively. He glared into the rearview mirror at the priest. "No, I couldn't get drunk, Jonathan. You know why? You _really_ wanna know? Because if I were drunk and you were drunk, who would control _him_?"

It was so weird Jonathan thought. He had never seen the mummy quite so thoroughly plastered. Imhotep's eyes were dull and his face passive as he sat in the back, dead center and watched the road ahead. He looked awfully funny with that duct tape across his lips and Jonathan giggled. Someone at the bar had insulted Imhotep and while the words had been lost upon him, the intent was quite clear. Alcohol induced rage spread through the prickly priest and he had stood grandly, intent on killing the infidel.

Of course murder wasn't entirely legal in England. To keep him from speaking a word Rick had insisted upon the tape and oddly enough Imhotep had agreed as if the suggestion had come from his mother. So there he sat, taped up and as calm as ever. Jonathan giggled again and the mummy kicked his seat. Rick breathed out loudly and hissed, "Would you two straighten up? Evy's gonna kill me for bringing you two home like this."

Jonathan breathed out as they turned into Carnahan Manor. He smiled at their grand home, and then frowned. Where did his car get off to and more importantly why on earth was the front door open? "I say," he breathed, looking at Rick to see if he too saw the same. The expression on his face gave a definite 'yes'.

Pulling the car over, Rick stopped and they all piled out as quickly as they could. The first thing they noticed was that the inside looked messy. "Evy!" Rick called, pushing past a fallen table. "Ardeth?" He ran towards the back of the house.

Imhotep looked to Jonathan through now sobered eyes, then disappeared upstairs to search. Evy's brother decided to try the kitchen, figuring she may be making dinner…or may have tried to. No smells greeted his nose as he drew closer. "Evy!" he shouted, picking up his pace and entering. The kitchen was untouched from lunchtime.

Jonathan swallowed and stood still a moment, gathering his thoughts away from the haze of drunkenness. "Where would I go if I were Evy?" he murmured, trying to find the answer. She liked her garden and her books. Rick was probably already outside.

The library was littered with a few fallen books and even a shelf had been overturned. A terrible feeling began to sink in. She was gone and they had no idea where. Imhotep entered with eyes that pleaded for the answer he wanted to hear. He pointed up and spread his hands, indicating that Ardeth must be gone as well. Jonathan shook his head sadly. "Sorry, old boy. I can't find them."

They heard footsteps in the hall, rapid and heavy. Rick called for them and Jonathan answered. In a moment he appeared at the door, his eyes also empty of what they wanted to know. "Nothing?"

Jonathan and Imhotep exchanged glances, then Evy's brother shrugged. "No. Imhotep says Ardeth's gone too."

Rick swore and ran his fingers through his hair, looking lost. "What the hell is going on?" He kicked the fallen bookshelf with a glare.

Grabbing a paper from the nearby desk, Imhotep wrote a message and handed it to Jonathan. He read it and looked up. "He says that acting like a fool won't help. We should leave the house and look for them."

"Right, right," O'Connell breathed, nodding and gazing up at the priest. He whipped his hand out and ripped the tape from his mouth.

For his credit Imhotep held his voice in check, cupping a hand over his mouth and narrowing his brow at Rick. His anger, however, he didn't hold back on. The priest sent a fist into Rick's jaw, making him fall back. "I'm gonna kick his ass," the ex-Legionnaire asserted, pushing himself to his feet.

Wringing his hands in frustration, Jonathan shook his head and raised his voice. "Okay, you two! We bloody well don't have time for this foolishness and I'm not going to stand around while you fight! I'm putting my foot down! Now let's go."

Wiping the blood from his lips, Rick glared at Imhotep, but shrugged to his friend. "Yeah, alright. We'll go." He turned and walked out, the mummy following at a distance.

Jonathan watched them go, then straightened and adjusted his jacket. With luck Evy and Ardeth wouldn't be far.

*

They walked in silence, side by side, and Evy shivered in the night air. The car was long gone now, left behind, and she and her captor were walking through a large private forest. Apparently he didn't mind the idea of sleeping on the ground. This wasn't Ardeth and she held to that, thankful that her faith in him again would prove true.

He pulled at her bound hands when she lagged behind slightly. The phone cord was cutting into her wrists, making her whimper when he did so. "Are you Akhenre?" she breathed, trying to see him in the darkness.

She heard him take in a deep breath before he answered, "Yes, it is I, Nefertiri."

It was chilly out and the moon only a sliver in the sky, making the situation that much more dreadful. Akhenre made her keep pace with him despite her tired legs. He wanted to be well away from the car. "Why are you doing this?" she asked him.

"I told you my reasons are my own, Princess," he told her in a hard tone as they trudged on. At least he too seemed troubled by their surroundings. Perhaps she could talk him into at least finding a hotel room. "All you must do is obey me and no harm will come to you. Can you do this?"

He thought of her as his own Nefertiri it seemed, by how he called her. Drawing on that, Evy took on a more confident attitude and replied to that, "And who are you that you can order around a princess, Med-Jai? How dare you do this?"

A hand met her back and shoved her forward, but he kept the cord firmly in his grasp. She fell down and cried out at the pain in her wrists. "Where is the Akhenre that used to be my friend? Where is he that I trusted so long ago, whom I called brother though he were not of my family?"

Yanking her up, he pushed her again and did not soften his voice. "He is dead and you will do well to remember it always. Nothing you say can touch my heart again."

His tone was filled with sadness and because of that she didn't believe his words. If Akhenre were truly dead he wouldn't sorrow for anything, be it she or whatever was on his mind. Evy remained silent for a while as they walked, running the past few hours through her mind again. It wasn't Ardeth and she was thankful. Yet what of her friend? "What about Ardeth? Is he gone now?" she asked, afraid to hear the answer.

Akhenre tensed on the other side of the cord, but remained firm. "He may as well be. I have pushed him aside and now have control of this body."

He pushed Ardeth aside? Evy swallowed as some relief and hope was given from that. If Ardeth were merely pushed side then perhaps he could again resurface. But Akhenre seemed to know things that Ardeth knew, like what the purpose of an automobile was and where his wallet was. Akhenre had told her before that Ancksunamun and Meela had become too intertwined for separation to be possible. Evy could remember how she was, carrying the memories of both women, but acting as Ancksunamun. That worried her because Akhenre was behaving the same way.

It seemed a long time after their conversation when Akhenre finally stopped and shoved Evy to the ground. She frowned at him as he crouched. His hands gripped her arms and pulled her to a tree where he tied her. "What are you doing?" she asked in low tones.

Akhenre sat on his knees beside her, his hands pressing into her head as he commanded her to be silent. He held her against the tree and began chanting softly. Evy struggled when she realized what he was saying. "Don't do this, Akhenre. Please. I'll help you, but don't do this."

The Med-Jai covered her lips with his hand and ignored her whimpering and struggles, his voice soft and strong. She began to feel dizzy and sick, but fought desperately to hold onto reality. Evy put her mind on other things, such as Rick, Imhotep and Jonathan—remembering anything that would hold her attention away from the words he said.

Finally he stopped and she slumped, realizing that she was still here. Her whole body ached with weariness. Akhenre exhaled and straddled her lap, still holding her back with a hand to her head. "You may fight me all night, Nefertiri, but I am much stronger than you. I will not fail."

As he began chanting again Evy steeled herself for the battle of wills that lay ahead. But if Ardeth had failed, how could she hope to succeed?

* 

**Lula**, thanks for your kind words. Yeah, Ardeth's going through some roughness, poor sweetie. ;-) I'm glad you liked my humor. And yeah, Rick's overcoming his own little obstacles with Immy around. ;-) **Cacina**, yeas…had to add some lovin' in here, cause I'm trying to balance between the two angles of Immy/Evy and Ardeth's story. Bars on the windows…that would have come in handy before this chapter, eh? ;-) **Marcher**, yes…poor guy. He's not getting relief any time in the soonishness. And yes..I would give a whole bunch to soothe that boy. :-D A whoooole big bunch.

Anyhow, thanks readers! You guys rock! -Angela


	6. Betrayal

Title: Passion - Chapter Five - Betrayal   
Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

The house was not in complete ruins and for that his queen would be grateful. She prided herself on having a beautiful home, though if he had any say, this place was not good enough for her, not matter how large. If he could do as he wished he would see her in the grandest palace that this world could fathom because in his eyes that was her place. Queen, beautiful and fair and wise, deserving of everything this place could offer.

But this was England. This was the future and a very strange time indeed. Imhotep crossed his arms and looked around, kicking at a fallen table. Merchants ruled the world and to him that was the most ridiculous concept under the Gods he had ever heard. Rameses had tried explaining it once, but Imhotep didn't really care. It was foolishness…maybe.

The search had proved in vain at least for him. He could not shout for his love or the Med-Jai, could not do much of anything except use his eyes. For a time that was okay, for they had ridden within that great steel contraption seeking the other than Nefertiri's brother managed. But when the search was to begin on foot Nycolaus had brought him here to watch in case the princess returned. Return indeed. People did not leave their homes in shambles like this unless they were forced.

Imhotep paced a little, wondering where the little princess was and if she and Akhenre were okay. With hope the Med-Jai would bring her out of their captivity and safely home. The priest sighed and gazed out the front door that he had left open. He had not felt this way about her in a long time.

He never really hated her, he supposed. The blinding pain that had resulted from her ending their affair had wounded him deeply, true, but hate Nefertiri? How could he hate his own his own heart? No, that feeling was saved for Ancksunamun, his betraying seductress who had taken everything from him.

Sometimes it still made him ache, just how much he had given up for her to feel again after Nefertiri. He had been a great fool in the things he had done. He no longer deserved Nefertiri's love, for he had become a monster. Her hope in him was absolutely amazing. Truly this was what redemption was, to have this life gifted to him. He did not know what would happen when he died, but to have Nefertiri was more than he could ask for. He almost felt like the priest Seti had trusted once. Almost.

He could recall her as a child of fifteen years, coming to him to learn of Osiris and the ways of the gods. Imhotep had been more than a caretaker of the dead, he had been a teacher, healer, builder, advisor…so many things had been entrusted to him. And he failed them because of that child who had not paid a bit of attention while he was giving her lessons. Imhotep smiled at the memory of her watching him with the eyes of a girl awakening to the world of men. He had been a little annoyed with it because the last thing he needed was an infatuated princess complicating matters.

But she held on to him, visiting him without need and becoming his friend. Time passed and her flirting increased, so he made a game of it. Foolishly. Deliriously stupid. Seti would have likely unmanned him if he had learned how Imhotep began looking upon his young daughter. Definitely if he had heard Ancksunamun's lies that he was bedding other women aside from Nefertiri after they had become lovers. Imhotep thanked Osiris that the man was usually blind to things he did not wish to see.

The priest worried now, though. Nefertiri was gone somewhere with Akhenre and while the man had been a Med-Jai before and ever was today Imhotep distrusted him. Akhenre had never taken to him, never cared for his relationship with Nefertiri. Why that should be Imhotep couldn't guess unless the man had feelings for his princess that Nefertiri was blind to. She insisted Akhenre felt nothing but brotherly love. She was probably right, too, but it still irked Imhotep that Akhenre had not minded his own business and stayed out of things that were not his concern.

So Imhotep waited, hoping beyond hope that she was safe with this strange Med-Jai who now tended a broken heart, also because of Ancksunamun. That insufferable woman had caused so much pain. If ever she were raised again he would do the honors himself and kill her.

There was a sound from the door and he looked up, his pulse now racing. It was she, his queen. Nefertiri stood at the door, her eyes bold and even a bit surprised. Her wrists were red with lines. "Imhotep," she breathed and he came to her.

Imhotep swept her into his arms and showered her with kisses, not caring for the moment where she had been or how she had returned. She did not return his kiss, but he felt her hand slide up his chest to his throat. Nefertiri pulled away from him and smiled. "I have a gift for you, Imhotep." Her fingers brushed against his scars and she began chanting softly.

At first it felt as though she were burning him and he pulled back, but her grip was nearly as granite. His breathing became ragged as he watched her sweet face. Then it was done and she kissed him, again smiling that strange knowing smile. "Speak to me," she commanded.

Trusting her completely, he dared and opened his lips to say, "Nefertiri? My love?" He waited for death and it did not come. Instantly he smiled, yet even with his voice returned and many things to say, he found himself speechless.

Nefertiri edged him back towards the staircase, pushing him against the railing and meeting his lips once more, her hands petting him and touching him as she had never before. This felt so different, so unlike her. "Where are the others?" she asked in a whisper, her dark eyes half lidded as she gazed on him.

"They search for you, my love," he breathed, now looking towards the door. Where was Akhenre? Nefertiri laughed and took his hands in hers, sending her lips over his again and holding his wrists back playfully. A creak on the staircase betrayed they weren't alone, but he moved too late in his surprise. A cord was wrapped around his wrists, tying him to the railing and his princess, his queen laughed at his struggles.

She left the room and the Med-Jai came down. He must have come from the back and snuck up while Imhotep was preoccupied with Nefertiri's return, the priest surmised. He glared at this incarnation of Akhenre and demanded in his returned voice, "What are you doing?"

Akhenre made no answer, merely watched as Imhotep pulled at his bonds. Nefertiri came from a hallway with a smile, holding up the paper she and the others used for currency. "I have it. We can leave."

"Nefertiri!' Imhotep snapped as he watched her begin for the door with Akhenre. "Nefertiri, what is going on? Why have you done this?"

The expression she returned him gave him nothing if not a shock, so cold and ruthless it was. Her hand wrapped around Akhenre's shirt and she pulled him close, pushing her lips against his. She pulled back slowly, watching the Med-Jai's face with a smile. "A monster like you can mean nothing to me, Imhotep. I am leaving with Ardeth."

The princess whipped around and left with the Akhenre following closely behind. The priest found himself paralyzed with shock and betrayal. She could not have done this, not his princess. Not again. "Nefertiri," he whispered after her, knowing she could not possibly hear.

Ancksunamun had poisoned her mind against him and now it seemed her lover had done the same. Nefertiri of long ago had been wrong, the Med-Jai did feel a connection for her. Back then Imhotep had failed by letting her go, but he would not this time. She would not get away from the truth of his love so easily and be blinded. Akhenre would pay for this.

With a yell of consuming rage Imhotep ripped the cords from the rail, breaking the wood behind him. All his thought was upon Akhenre and killing him for this. Perhaps redemption would not be his. Perhaps he had been foolish to believe she would love him again as she had. But he would not let her go this time without a fight.

He approached the door to see if he could see which direction they had taken, but outside another car was pulling in. Nycolaus and Rameses exited with disappointed faces. Imhotep waved his hand and pointed towards the darkness that lay beyond the home. "They have gone!"

Both men before him stopped and blinked at his ability to speak, but they did not have time for this. Imhotep shook his head and grabbed Rameses by the jacket and shoved him towards the car. "They came and have gone together. They took money."

"Whoa, whoa," Jonathan said, shaking his head and looking to the very confused Rick. "Where did they get off to?"

The priest fought back the image in his mind of Nefertiri's cold expression. His stomach ached. "Something has happened. They have changed. Neither told me where they were going, but we must stop them. Please, Rameses. I cannot lose her."

They held each other's gaze a moment, then her brother nodded. "Right. We'll go." He turned to Rick and spoke their language to him. The once Greek Med-Jai looked shocked and brought his eyes to Imhotep's. Then he got in the car.

Imhotep followed with Rameses.

*

They had again abandoned the car, this time for good. Within the city they now sought a refuge from what was sure to be a group of three led by one very angry priest. The lady behind the desk looked between them dubiously, but shrugged. "I have a room available. You are married?"

Akhenre's face was aggravated at having this woman question him, but she had warned him to play along with this time. "We are married," he replied coolly. He took her hand and kissed it.

Ancksunamun in the body of Nefertiri smiled grandly and looked to her 'husband' with adoring eyes. "Would you turn us away when we are cold and the night is still yet long ahead?"

With a grunt the woman turned around and took a key from a rack. She handed it to Akhenre with a shrug. "This is a respectable establishment, so I will trust your word. Third floor, last door on the left."

They left the desk and headed for the stairs. Ancksunamun took the key from Akhenre and muttered, "Respectable. If it were she would not entertain such thoughts." She brushed past the Med-Jai that followed, intent on privacy now that they had gotten money and were finally free of the others. She opened the hotel room without a word and entered.

Akhenre followed and closed the door behind him. Ancksunamun could tell something was bothering him. She smiled softly and came to him, rubbing her hand gently across his stomach. "Something troubles you, my love?"

He looked down at her and absently touched a stray lock of her long hair. "It is much to bear, both his memories and my own. Sometimes I…forget who I am."

Ancksunamun pillowed her head against his chest and held to him for a few moments, reveling that he had brought her back and he was now hers. What she had wanted so many ages ago was now hers for the having. "The disorientation will pass, lover. Our future is yet uncertain, but soon you will be at ease." She looked up into his gentle eyes and leaned in to kiss him.

Her Med-Jai lover backed away and exhaled. "Don't," he breathed, shaking his head. He touched her shoulder as if to reassure her. "To my eyes you are still Nefertiri."

She frowned at him and pulled away, moving to a mirror to look at her reflection. The eyes of a princess glared back. "I have missed you, Akhenre. I wish to again feel your kiss." The concubine in her stolen body turned back to him thoughtfully. "Have you not missed mine?"

"With everything that I am," he replied in a soft voice that left little doubt he truly belonged to her. Yet there was still reluctance in his eyes. "It only the memories of my time with her that make me hesitate, my love. I did never look upon her with eyes of desire, nor has Ardeth Bay done so with Evelyn."

Ancksunamun turned back and brushed her hair behind her shoulders. Her pale cheeks were unmarked by the scars of Set. A fresh beginning. Part of her liked being in this body, knowing that the woman inside was frightened of what acts her own hands would commit. She had felt Nefertiri's pain when Imhotep had thought himself betrayed. That had delighted Ancksunamun.

She turned back to Akhenre and smiled. "Then I shall turn off the lights so you will see her no more, Akhenre. In 3,000 years you have not touched me. We have been apart too long." Her lover still looked back with unease in his dark eyes. Her gaze of desire became angry. "It is that you know Nefertiri gazes out these eyes as well, is it not, my love? She will know what you have done, will feel it as I do. What do you care of her that you would deny me?"

At that he turned away and walked silently to the window. Pushing back the curtains, he said, "She has done nothing. Already she has suffered so much at the hands of this body, nearly death even. It is you I wish to have, not she."

"And if I kept this body?" Ancksunamun breathed back, running her hands over her arms. "Would you love me less?"

Akhenre touched the windowpane and turned to her once more. She knew that expression. Resolve. He would not give her this tonight. "No, I would not love you less. I brought you back that you could return to your own body that lies within the temple. Will you now change the plan I have set?"

There was a saying that Nefertiri knew from this time about catching flies with honey. Giving in to his modesty, Ancksunamun went to him and pulled him into her embrace. "No. I will not change your plan. We do not have to do this tonight, but would you allow at least a kiss?"

That seemed to appease him and he hugged her to him, pulling her forward to claim her request. He closed his eyes when their lips met, but didn't hold back his passion. In 3,000 years she had not forgotten the power of his mouth on hers. She had missed this. Too soon he pulled away, however and sat down to remove his shoes. He coughed, revealing that this body was touched by sickness.

Ancksunamun watched him for a moment, noticing for the first time how tired he looked. She reached down and brushed his hair away from his face and uttered the soft words to a spell of healing. He faded out momentarily and when he looked up his eyes were frightened. "My love?" she breathed, furrowing her brow at his expression.

He stood up and looked towards the door uncertainly. "I'm going for a walk," he told her, then began towards the exit.

Frowning at this confusing behavior, Ancksunamun started after him to stop him, but he stopped himself midway. He seemed waged in a battle with himself as to whether or not to leave and it suddenly occurred to her why that might be. In an almost accusing voice she said, "Ardeth Bay," and at that he started towards the door again.

She beat him to it and blocked the exit. Immediately Bay reached for her arms and she threw herself forward, knocking him to the floor. He groaned and narrowed his brow, rolling to his side to get some sort of hold of her. He grabbed her wrists and held her down. "I will not let you keep her body, Ancksunamun. I saw what you did to Imhotep and when you looked in the mirror I saw it in your eyes. I cannot let you ruin her life for the pleasure of it."

Ancksunamun pleaded with her eyes, struggling beneath his grasp. "Then you would send me back to my torment before I can even reclaim my own body? You would take away my chance to unbind myself from Set and eternal death? I mean not to keep her body."

At that he had no immediate answer and that was her advantage. Ardeth's conscience made him question how far was too far. His heart was good and letting her die again would be hard on one such as he, no matter what pain she had caused him. That small window of doubt was enough and he slumped to her, letting go of her arms. "You healed him," he breathed, rolling from her and covering his eyes. "You healed him and he became strong again. I barely regained control."

Relieved at the returned speech of her lover, she hugged into him and closed her eyes. "So you do not have absolute control. Perhaps it is so with me as well, lover. We will be more careful in the future."

"And will you be able to fight him off, my love? If he again regains control will you be able to stop him from leaving and ruining everything?" His breathing came heavy as he looked into her eyes.

A smile spread across her lips and she kissed him softly. "You forget, Akhenre. I am a priestess of Set. When you killed me in the temple you prevented Imhotep from doing the ritual that would strip me of my powers." His eyes darkened at the mention of what he had done, but she shook her head. "Do not be troubled, my love. You saved me from final rest and my powers are still my own. I have already forgiven you for what you thought you had to do." She embraced him to her again. "Now we have killed one another and all debts are repaid. Let us live for each other this age."

Akhenre nodded and wrapped his strong arms around her. His lips met with hers again and after he sat up, pulling her with him. "We must rest, Ancksunamun. Let us retire to bed."

She teased him with her eyes, but his chiding smile and playful batting showed his decision hadn't changed. There would be time for that, she supposed, but she would not wait too long. He would throw his heart into such an act and would therefore seal his own will to hers. She wanted the security of that and would make his resolve for waiting crumble if she could.

*

The taste of failure was bitter in Imhotep's mouth. He remained very quite despite the incessant chatter from Jonathan. After living for more than a month with no voice it seemed strange that now with the gift of speech he would have nothing to say. The other two in the car were even more baffled about his story than he.

Nycolaus was very suspicious of it because he believed Nefertiri would never do as she had. That was also the belief of Rameses, but he at least gave the priest the benefit of the doubt. Neither could explain his sudden ability to talk, so like it or not they were going to have to accept is story at face value.

They both assured him that Nefertiri had not simply left with the Med-Jai for desire, nor would she be so easily led astray by such out of character words as poisoning her against her priest. They claimed Ardeth would not do so if there were no reason. Nycolaus had commented Imhotep did enough poisoning against himself without needing help. All these thoughts tumbled around in his mind, but he could not explain what else could have happened tonight.

Yet it was still some form of hope, no matter how meager. He in truth found it hard to believe that she would so suddenly turn, but his mind kept returning to the past when the very same thing had happened. He could think of no other explanation.

Rick looked at him through the mirror attached to the window in front of the car, speaking in his own tongue. Imhotep couldn't translate very well, but he did catch the word 'freak' and seethed inside, weary of this man's insulting tones. The Greek Med-Jai smacked Rameses on the shoulder and commanded something. Jonathan translated, "Rick says you should calm down. There has to be something else going on and killing them won't solve anything."

Nycolaus would think that he meant to kill them. 3,000 years ago the young Med-Jai had not liked Imhotep for the same reason he did not today. Because of Nefertiri. Imhotep realized the younger man was threatened by his presence even though his own relationship to the present Nefertiri was over, but right now he was simply not in the mood to banter. He searched his mind for a phrase Rick had said in that sarcastic tone and repeated it back to him now that he could speak. Imhotep raised his chin and looked into the rearview mirror, saying in a heavy accent something resembling, "Screw you."

A huge grin spread across Jonathan's lips as he looked for his friend's response. He laughed and Imhotep recalled Rameses also finding humor precious. Nycolaus' brow furrowed and he asked in his tongue, "Did he just say what I think he said?"

Imhotep crossed his arms and listened as the two in front spoke back and forth, Rameses ever smiling and Rick looking every bit as irritated as he had since their return from the place of drink. For now the priest paid no attention to it. His mind was full of worry for Nefertiri. If she had not betrayed him out of simple deception then what had a hold of her?

And what if she had betrayed him?

They pulled back into the manor and got out of the car, all three feeling in their own way the pain and confusion of today's loss. Not one of them had any idea where the Med-Jai had taken Nefertiri, but it was certain to be out of country.

As they entered the house something caught Imhotep's eyes, though, something that brought him a little hope. The others likely thought him unable to see past Nefertiri's lovely face, but he had a good eye for things misplaced. On the floor was a small likeness of the Great Pyramid in Egypt. Bending down with furrowed brows, he picked it up and looked at it. This was something usually in that room of books his princess spent time in. He picked it up and showed it to her brother. "This does not belong near the door."

Jonathan took the model and looked it over himself, then raised his eyes to Rick, speaking in their tongue. Nycolaus stared at the object for a moment then hissed something Imhotep assumed was a curse. Now the question was, had it been placed there to point the way or distract them from the true path?

Something in Imhotep's heart told him it was the former. Egypt was a part of them all in some way, and the home of the Med-Jai. It was their only lead.

*

I know I have other stories asking attention, but this is what I have to offer. Lol. **Lula**, Akhenre was a nice guy. ;) And yeah, it would be terrible if he made Ardeth feel worse. They've got trouble though, one way or another. :D Thanks! **Marcher**, wow, shivers, eh? Honestly, yes I love to torment Evy cause I identify with her and let's face it. I would adore being grabbed by Ardeth. ;) Thanks! **Cacina**, or **Hadassa** now? My friend's daughter's name is Hadassah. :D Yes, he does need to be barred up. Lol. And Immy's always ready to kick behind. ;D Thanks! **Deana**, thanks so much for the help and encouraging words! Means a bunch my friend!

And naturally, thanks everyone else for reading. :D -Angela __


	7. Got A Problem?

Title: Passion - Chapter Six - Got A Problem?   
Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

Akhenre had a little problem. In their hotel room in Cairo she sat, tied to a chair, looking very irritated. "I said I wouldn't run away," she told him, pulling at her bonds. "It's not like I can afford to return to England when you have all the money."

The Med-Jai sighed and sat back against a desk, watching Nefertiri struggle. It had happened around midnight. Ancksunamun had cuddled herself against his body when they went to bed and soon after fell asleep. Lucky for them he slept lightly, or he could very well be out searching the town for her right now.

As the middle of the night drew near he felt her suddenly sit and when he got up to see what was wrong he saw it in her eyes. Nefertiri looked back at him, afraid and contemplative. If he had not awakened she would have left the room, he knew, and had still wondered if she could get past him.

Immediately he had pulled her from the bed and tied her to a chair, then waited. It was now morning and his lover had yet to resurface. If she were not back soon he would have to try something. "I cannot let you free, Nefertiri. You know that. If you let Ancksunamun have control this will go easier for you."

She looked down at the floor and wiggled her foot. "I told you I can't. I don't have any control over this." Nefertiri exhaled and looked back up to him softly. "I wanted to thank you for what you did back in England."

"What is that?" he asked her.

Her eyes left him again. "For not…being with Ancksunamun. It would have probably bothered Ardeth a great deal if he would have had to watch it happen."

Akhenre folded his arms and glanced around the lavish room. It was definitely not as lovely as Ancient Egypt had been. The truth was he himself would have been bothered, knowing the princess could see his actions. This world and his ancient duty now meant nothing to him, but she had been his friend. She had done nothing and suffered great in her time. "Think nothing of it, Princess. My desire is for Ancksunamun, not an innocent girl who has done nothing to deserve what she has been through."

She smiled at that and eyed him mischievously. "Still, you said neither you nor Ardeth ever thought of me in that way. I'm not sure, but I think there's an insult in there somewhere."

Despite himself, Akhenre laughed, reminded of the playful woman Nefertiri had been so long ago. He shook his head and shrugged. "For your honor and beauty I will admit we both may have thought of it once or twice in passing."

Nefertiri nodded, pleased with that reply. "That's better. Do you really love Ancksunamun?" she asked him suddenly.

He looked at her sharply, wondering if his lover had returned and was testing him. He would pass the test, for he did indeed love the concubine, no matter how foolish it was. "Yes," he answered truthfully. "I love her very deeply, Nefertiri."

"Imhotep thought he loved her as well," was her reply and to that he sighed.

Akhenre bit his bottom lip in thought, and then pushed himself up from the desk to pace a little. He wondered not for the first time when his beloved would return. "I cannot speak for the priest, other than he did not know her and he was recovering from another heart affliction at the time." She looked away at that and he felt guilty. If he had only taken his lover away like she wanted, then life could have returned to normal for everyone else. "I knew Ancksunamun before any of the terrible events that lead to Imhotep's curse. I loved her before that and before she took up with Set. Only I was too afraid to do anything about it. I caused all of this."

Nefertiri sighed, looking like she was also reliving past hurts. They both had had their lovers ripped away from them. "Akhenre, this isn't your fault," she told him finally. "I know you feel like it right now, but she made the choice to become a priestess of Set. You can't blame yourself for all of it. We all made mistakes."

He stopped his pacing and looked at her, at first only seeing her sympathetic gaze. It made him uncomfortable. "We will talk no more of this. Are you hungry?"

"Yes," she replied with a breath. Evy wiggled in her chair and shot him a pleading look, hoping it would have the effect she desired.

Akhenre shook his head and gave in, kneeling before her. His eyes held hers for a moment as if he were asking her to be good. Ancksunamun would not be happy with this. She made no expression back and bit her lip when he untied her and stood. "I will get us something to eat," he told her. 

His first mistake had been letting her go. His second was when he turned his back on her. _What would Ardeth do?_ she thought, seeing an opportunity in this. It pained her to break trust with Akhenre, but whatever they were planning she couldn't allow. They had mentioned getting Ancksunamun's body, but not Akhenre's.

She scouted around quickly as the Med-Jai began towards the window again. There was a phone on the desk he had leaned against. There simply wasn't time for her to consider whether or not she should take action against him. Ardeth would want her to act if she could. Wincing, she ripped it off the desk and went for him without a plan.

The second he hit the ground she groaned and dropped the phone. Akhenre and Ardeth both in one body lay sprawled on the floor, unconscious. "Oh good Lord," she breathed, rubbing her forehead and feeling suddenly hot with nervous energy. Evy dropped to her knees beside him and pushed him onto his back. He was going to be very angry when he woke up and there was no guarantee Ancksunamun would be back by then to take the heat.

Evy looked up at the bed, then frowned in defeat. He was a muscular, heavy warrior and she a small woman. There was no way she would be able to get him up there without help. She looked back at the fallen phone and pulled the cord from it. "I'm sorry, Ardeth," she told him even though he wouldn't hear. It made her feel better almost. She pushed his body closer to the bed and started tying his wrists to the frame leg.

When he was securely tied she sat back and exhaled deeply. Now she wasn't sure what to do. The others needed to know she and Ardeth were all right for the most part, but someone would have to come and help her with him. They couldn't stay in this hotel room forever and Akhenre was very likely to be slightly annoyed with her when he got up. And that wasn't even counting her Ancksunamun problem. At any given moment the priestess could return.

There was no help for that. She was going to have to attempt something within the next few minutes. She needed to call home.

*

Rick stood at the porthole in the main room adjoining he and the others' rooms. The Great Pyramid was nearing and soon they would be back. The priest was at another port nearby, his dark eyes wistful. The bastard was probably remembering with fondness something evil he had done. Rick grunted and sighed. How could this man believe he deserved Evy's love, anyway?

Not that he deserved her, either. He wasn't what she needed and he knew that, but Imhotep? Please. Rick gave the priest a sidelong glare. Evy would never see reason. Of course she said the same about him, too, and maybe she was right. He didn't want to see reason. This monster just wasn't good enough for her. And quite frankly his sadness was getting on O'Connell's nerves. 'You feel bad for him, don't you?' Jonathan had accused. Rick rolled his eyes and looked at the approaching land. He most certainly did _not_ feel bad. Quite the opposite.

Rick left the window and moved to a small cart behind the priest. He poured himself a drink and exhaled loudly. Imhotep turned just as he did and they bumped into one another. "Look," Rick snapped when his drink spilled over him. "God, look what you did, you jerk. I oughta pour some on you."

Miffed by his tone, Imhotep crossed his arms and glared. He waved his finger and said something in Egyptian, pointing Rick away from his window. O'Connell frowned and poured himself another drink as the priest turned back to his view. Shaking his head, he took his drink to the couch and plopped down. He sipped loudly.

The priest approached and sat down across from him. A picture of Evy sat on the table beside him, placed there specifically by him and for him to look at. He loved the detailed accuracy of photographs. Rick watched him pick the image up and touch the surface. He rolled his eyes when Imhotep looked up.

Setting the frame back down, the priest rested his arms over the arms of the chair he sat in and kept an annoyed eye on Rick. "Problem?" Rick muttered in retort. The mummy stayed silent, ever watching with those darkened eyes.

Rick didn't really believe Evy had run off with Ardeth. Their Med-Jai friend was a major step up from this priest, but it just wasn't like her to run away like that without a word. Even still it wasn't like this priest should be surprised, anyway, real or not. It was the natural end to a relationship that shouldn't have started in the first place. Imhotep looked away and exhaled. Rick kicked his feet up on the coffee table between them and watched him for a moment, wondering just what Evy could see in him.

The priest noticed Rick's thoughtful gaze and frowned, again speaking in his language. His body language suggested he was probably saying something akin to what Rick had just said. Daring him to fight, was he? Two could play at that game. Rick set his drink down and glared back. "You know I'm glad it's over? I don't trust you and I never will. You don't deserve Evy."

At Evy's name Imhotep flinched back with that same doubt that had been trailing his private expressions. Then his eyes grew angry in answer to Rick's hostility. All it took was for Rick to motion him on, then he pounced. The two men struggled together and hit the floor. Rick kneed the priest in the stomach, making him groan and roll away to his feet.

Imhotep kicked Rick before he could rise, yelling something in Egyptian. That was another thing that was quickly getting old. Rick rolled over, grabbed the mummy's leg and yanked, causing him to fall back. "I should kill you," he hissed through gritted teeth, kneeling over the priest to punch him.

Blocking Rick's blows, Imhotep growled and shoved the attack off, then got up. O'Connell brought himself up and ran after him as he went for a nearby chair. He launched himself at the priest's back, knocking him to the floor while he groped for the chair. Rick yanked him away and sent his fist into his jaw. Imhotep gripped Rick by the shoulders and hurled him back towards the center of the room angrily. O'Connell hit Imhotep's chair and knocked both it and the table beside it over. They froze when they heard glass shatter.

Rick lay there still when Imhotep decided to move. The priest passed him and knelt nearby and Rick got to his knees to see what was going on. Evy's picture lay on the floor, the glass of the frame cracked down the center. Imhotep brushed his fingers over her face and sat down. "Nefertiri," he breathed, gazing at the image.

For a moment Rick did nothing but let the man contend with his betrayal. The quiet in the room was too uncomfortable for him to deal with, so he stood and made a move towards the door. Then he stopped and turned back. 

Rolling his eyes and running a hand through his hair, he said, "Want a drink?"

Imhotep recognized that phrase from Jonathan and looked up in puzzlement. Rick frowned at him. "Do you want a drink or not? I may never offer again, so you'd better make up your mind." The priest seemed a little uncertain, but nodded anyway. O'Connell shook his head and went to the drinks cart and poured.

He returned and dropped down to the floor with two drinks and gave one to Imhotep. They both drank and O'Connell grunted at the picture in the broken frame, muttering, "Women."

*

His head was killing him. That was the first thing that he noticed as consciousness started to come to him. Ardeth opened his eyes slowly, amazed he could even choose to open them at all. The light streaming in through the window was bright. He tried to sit and groaned when his tied wrists held him down. He was tied to a bed, left to lie on the floor.

"Evy?" he breathed, well aware that he had not put enough effort into his call. Unless she were nearby she wouldn't hear him. Of course it was quite possible Ancksunamun had taken over by now, though why she would keep him tied he could not guess. He raised his voice. "Evy?" There was no reply.

Ardeth rested his head back and looked at the ceiling. He wouldn't blame her if she had run off, leaving him here for her own safety, but that was unlike her. With hope she was getting help from his people. They still controlled the museum and were placed in various areas around town. They probably already knew they were here and were wondering why he was remaining quiet to them.

He could only pray they would think his actions odd and investigate, though with his moving to England they may take it for granted and assume he was on his own business which these days may or may not include the Med-Jai. Ardeth cursed his own confusion and struggles.

He wondered how long he had been out. The door to their shared room opened and he looked up. Evy stopped, seeing him awake and looked pained. "You're awake. That's good. That's a good thing." She closed the door behind her and stayed back. "Look, Akhenre, I did what I had to do. You understand, right?"

Ardeth closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. "I understand. And when I get free and kill you, you'll understand too, won't you?" He opened his eyes slightly and smiled, watching her face. Evy widened her eyes a little and fidgeted with her fingers. His head throbbed and he groaned. "Mmm, Evy, I can't believe you hit me."

For a moment his friend's frightened expression remained, but then it hit her. She left her fear behind and came to his side. "Ardeth? Is it you?"

He groaned again and nodded. "Unfortunately."

She bit her lip and hovered over him, her worry-face on. "Do you think it's serious? I've never actually hit anyone in the back of the head before."

"No," he breathed, lying as still as he could. It wasn't very comfortable with tied hands, but he knew the danger that could come of a freed Akhenre. "I think I'll live."

Evy pursed her lips and sat back on her knees, muttering, "You think. Well, what else do you think? I tried calling home and no one answered, so I tried to see if anyone in England had information on travelers and was told a man named O'Connell and two friends boarded a train a day after we left, but they wouldn't tell me to where."

Ardeth forced himself to open his eyes and keep them that way. "We should contact the museum. We need the Med-Jai to help us." He moved around a little and sighed, uncertain as to what more to do. He had no way of knowing when Akhenre would return. Of course neither of them could know when Ancksunamun would return. "This is a journey best made together, Evy."

Smoothing her hair behind her shoulders, Evy nodded and began to untie him. "If Akhenre returns and kills me for hitting him, I'm holding you responsible."

Ardeth smiled and sat up with a groan when he was free. The room seemed to spin for a moment. "We do not know whether Ancksunamun will return before Akhenre. Either way one of us could be in trouble." He inhaled and stood. "It seems to me that my counterpart goes in response to my body, whether in pain or healing. Did this not occur with Ancksunamun?"

Evy shook her head at that. "No. She was asleep when it happened, but I'm guessing because she was in control that only her mind was tied to consciousness. I remained awake when she fell asleep." She seemed to consider something as Ardeth opened the door to their room. They stepped out into the hall together and Evy took a breath to speak, but decided against it.

"Is there something you aren't telling me?" he asked mildly.

She looked up at him and sighed. "She's afraid of something. I can't read her thoughts, but I can feel she's…well, I felt the same way when Imhotep had me tied to that slab in Hamunaptra. Impending doom. I know she's a lot more powerful than Akhenre in the way of spells, but somehow I just don't think she has enough power to remain in control of me. I don't feel her here at all."

Ardeth narrowed his brow and opened the hotel entrance to let her out. "Perhaps she is gone. I can feel Akhenre."

Evy winced. "Is he angry?"

The Med-Jai laughed at that and looked down the street. The old streets flooded memories into him. "He is a little annoyed, but I think he fears Ancksunamun's reaction to his trusting nature more than he desires vengeance." Ardeth looked at the sand below. "He does not want her to ever feel he has failed her again."

"And what do you think?" The question caught him off guard.

Ardeth offered his friend a glance before looking ahead of them in the distance. He would rather not speak of his feelings concerning Ancksunamun and Akhenre and what had occurred so long ago, but he also knew that to heal he would have to someday. "I feel that a month ago, if I had only stopped fighting her long enough to listen, maybe I could have stopped a lot of it. Perhaps I could have helped her."

Evy sighed at that and clasped her hands together before her. He wasn't sure what feelings Nefertiri had for the priestess in the end, or how that might color Evy's opinions of her now. He only knew what Akhenre knew. He had loved this woman in a past life. "What do you think we should do, Ardeth? I know they are returning to get Meela's body from the temple, but I honestly think Akhenre means to keep yours."

He shook his pained head lightly, groaning as he did so. "I am in a position where I do not know what to do, Evy. I want…I want to help her."

His friend looked up at him with a note of sadness in her dark eyes. "What if helping her gets you killed or worse?"

Ardeth had no answers to that. He gazed at the sand beneath his feet as they continued.

*

Heyas! Next part ready for reading. Woohoo! **Lu**, yeah, I think Ricky would be quite bothered. Prolly more so by Ardeth because they're like such good friends. Anck isn't a very nice girl though, so I figured she would try something like that. ;-) Thanks! **Deana**, thanks for reading and commenting and helping! I know you must get sick of it! Lol. ;-) I need to shorten these things. **Marcher**, what's a snog?? Lol. Last I read it was an evil critter in the Death Gate Cycle! Hehehe. Thanks for reviewing. **Elenhiril**, I hope you enjoyed what you did read and have gotten this far yet…lol. ;-) Thanks. **Hadassaknamu**, yeah…hmm. I hadn't thought of him trying to bring back Nef. Interesting thought. Lol…and yeah, poor Ardeth's got quite a few people out to get him now, huh? Lol. Thanks!

Thanks everyone who's been reading! -Angela


	8. Second Wind

Title: Passion - Chapter Seven - Second Wind  
Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

Imhotep looked out across the strange city as they came from Giza Port to find rooms. This world definitely lacked the grace and sophisticated beauty that was his Egypt; the buildings were made with less artistry and the people grumbled openly about their part in day-to-day living. But in the way of progress he could find no fault. Sometimes though it hit him just how long had passed. 3,000 years was a long time to these mortals. It seemed a long time for him now that he was, in fact, mortal.

In three millennia he had not felt the presence of age, but now it weighed on his mind. He was not certain he cared for the idea of having only forty or fifty more years with Nefertiri. They would fly by and then she would be gone. If she would have him for that long. The Med-Jai's face flitted through his thoughts and brought a scowl.

Rick's display of friendship had been nothing if not highly peculiar. The Greek Med-Jai hated Imhotep with a passion. Yet if he could bring himself to offer his enemy a drink and talk with him—even if it was in a language Imhotep knew very little of—could not Nefertiri change for the worse?

The fair-haired man spoke in a grumbling tone to Nefertiri's brother as they hefted their bags through the streets of Cairo. His mannerisms sometimes caught the priest's attention, making him wonder what sort of people this man had come from. He wasn't from the same people as Nefertiri and Rameses it seemed to Imhotep.

Thoughts of her made him gaze around him once more. If he concentrated hard enough he could see Thebes once again; see her as a younger girl, the games they would play. It seemed he had waited a long time for her to take him seriously and then Ancksunamun had taken it away from him almost as quickly as he had gotten it.

And now this. He wanted to have faith in her, but betrayal had been a part of his life for so long now he wasn't sure he knew how to trust. The vision ahead only increased that sensation. All three men stopped and O'Connell breathed something in his own language. Imhotep's eyes were not playing tricks on him. Walking ahead were the very two on the small party's minds.

Nefertiri and Akhenre walked close together and her hand suddenly touched his back. A scowl found Imhotep's expression as he stared. Surely it would not be this easy. Finding them on the streets in plain view? Was life not supposed to be harder? It would be for the Med-Jai in about twenty seconds. Imhotep knitted his brows and dropped the bags in his hands. "Uh-oh," Jonathan said and the priest knew that phrase to mean he likely foresaw something terrible ahead. He was very right.

The High Priest of Osiris stalked straight towards them with a growl from Nycolaus behind him. He paid the two men no mind. His intent was clear and would be satisfied. "You dare take that which is mine, Med-Jai?" he shouted in his tongue, causing many of the locals to look up from their destinations.

Nefertiri was the first to turn around and she gasped out his name. Imhotep ignored her for the moment and gripped the shirt of this Ardeth Bay, this Akhenre. "For this I will kill you!" he continued, shoving Ardeth into the wall of a nearby building. A lady drew her son away.

The Med-Jai groaned and winced, but pushed back with strength. Evelyn came up behind Imhotep and grabbed his shoulders, saying, "What do you think you're doing? Imhotep, stop!"

He pulled her hands from his body and turned his gaze on her. "Be still, princess! I will not let you go with this man without teaching him what it means to steal from a priest of Osiris!" The priest turned back to the recovering Med-Jai and threw a punch. Ardeth gripped his head and stumbled back from Imhotep's grasp.

"Go with this man?" Evy countered with a frown. Her expression searched her memory, then lit up in sudden understanding. "Oh my good lord, Imhotep, you're wrong! I'm not going anywhere with Ardeth!"

Imhotep had just grabbed Ardeth by the shirt again, but stopped when he heard that. He turned his head and looked to Nefertiri warily. "You told me you had chosen this Med-Jai over me."

She shook her head quickly and touched his arm, those dark eyes luminous as she now smiled. "It wasn't me that said that. It was Ancksunamun."

Right now he didn't care what that meant. It wasn't her that had chosen against him. At her warm expression he couldn't help but smile back. "Truly? It was not you?"

Nefertiri nodded and looked at the other two, then back again. Her eyes suddenly widened, but it was too late. Ardeth's fist met Imhotep's cheek and the priest stumbled. Evy looked up and gasped, and Imhotep turned to see what she was concerned with. The Med-Jai's eyes blazed between the friends. "You will not stop me from raising my lover," he told them.

Imhotep rubbed his jaw and said, "You would raise Ancksunamun, Med-Jai? Are you mad?"

The Med-Jai glared at him steadily, rage burning through his expression. His voice grew deathly low. "So long ago you touched what was mine, High Priest, yet I took no revenge for it. If you do not let me raise her then I shall take what is now yours. Ancksunamun will never let Nefertiri go."

_It was Ancksunamun._ Evy's words came back to him. Imhotep widened his eyes and turned to his princess in questioning. "Ancksunamun?"

She nodded with a frightened expression that made him feel ready to hit someone—Akhenre if he could manage it without causing too much anger. "She's inside me, Imhotep. I don't know when she'll surface again. Akhenre is in Ardeth." Nycolaus finally broke into the conversation, speaking to the princess in their language. Imhotep watched his blue eyes widen.

The priest looked at the sand, then glanced back to the Med-Jai, whose eyes held a familiar glint. There was little time. Acting quickly, Imhotep pounced onto him to prevent his escape, but Akhenre had been prepared for it. He grabbed Imhotep's wrists and swung him back. The priest felt himself fall, but kept a firm grasp on Akhenre, bringing the Med-Jai down with him. Rick dropped down to aid him, pressing his friend to the sand with a muttered word. Akhenre wrenched his arm free and slammed it into the fairer man, then went back to attacking Imhotep.

Imhotep found a knee in his stomach and doubled over with a groan. Mortality had this way of getting on his nerves once in a great while. Nycolaus took over struggling with the Med-Jai, trying desperately to hold his arms still. Jonathan took up a defensive stance in front of his sister.

Suddenly something caught the priest's attention as he got up and prepared to fight again. "Nycolaus!" he hissed, but it was too late. Akhenre grabbed for a knife hanging in a sheath at O'Connell's side and drew it, then shoved it into his side.

"Rick!" Evy cried as her friend hit the sand. Akhenre pulled himself free and took off before Imhotep could attack. He ran past Nefertiri with a longing glance, but apparently knew he had no time. The priest got up and started after him, but a small hand on his shoulder stopped him. Nefertiri looked up with tears in her eyes. "Help me."

Imhotep looked down at her fallen friend, then shook his head. "I have not the power to heal him. Not any longer."

She knelt down and took Imhotep's hand, pulling him to his knees without much effort past the expression on her face. "No, but you were a healer even before your power came. Will he die before we can get help?"

Rick shivered and groaned, looking up at Evy with frightened eyes. He breathed something in his own tongue to which Nefertiri soothed, "Shhh."

Imhotep opened the bottom of Nycolaus' shirt to see the damage. He was very lucky. The priest shook his head. "He will not die if we stop the bleeding. I have treated many Med-Jai coming from battle who lived after worse than this. But he must be treated. Your time has better medicine. Where shall we take him?"

Looking up to her brother, Nefertiri commanded his help as proudly as the princess she had been so long ago. Jonathan nodded and knelt down beside his friend, making ready to lift. The princess began picking up the bags from the road, but they were too numerous. Imhotep took one and strapped it to his back as Evy told him, "We'll take him to Dr. Qasim at the hospital. It isn't very far from here."

Imhotep nodded once and helped Rameses pick Nycolaus up from the sand. The Greek Med-Jai groaned and grumbled as they began walking. Nefertiri lagged behind with the heavy bags, causing the priest to keep glancing back. Akhenre was still out there somewhere.

*

She was in a hospital room, the room Nefertiri had stationed their shared body in for some time. Nycolaus lay sleeping on a bed nearby and Ancksunamun regarded him coldly. Still, it pleased her Akhenre would be willing to kill his friend for her. It was another bond around his heart. Ancksunamun sat for a moment, content to remain here for the time being. She wasn't feeling very well.

Ancksunamun pushed the chair back and retreated into an adjoining restroom to look at herself. Nefertiri's dark eyes stared back, lovely and regal. The princess had always been more regal. Lifetimes later she still looked pampered and spoiled and even though Ancksunamun herself gazed from those eyes, she couldn't erase the arrogance from her new face. Even still, Nefertiri was beautiful. She could see why Imhotep wanted her. She caressed her fingers over one cheek. Her own would be scarred and ugly. What if she kept this body? She could start over, pretend to be someone else.

The black shirt Nefertiri wore was loose and pretty for the standards of today, but Ancksunamun in her hell of being a concubine, had grown used to flaunting her body. The princess was beautiful in form, so why should she not do the same? The former priestess of Set knew why. Because it was beneath her. Turning to the side, Ancksunamun drew the shirt tighter and frowned at the reflection. Nefertiri wouldn't have long to look this way. She carried Imhotep's baby, or at least Ancksunamun assumed it was his. She could remember a time she had been pregnant with Seti's bastard child. As soon as the cold king had learned of it he had forced her to take herbs that would end any chance his slave could have someone to love other than himself.

Ancksunamun touched the mirror and looked into her eyes, breathing, "Do you know you're with child, Nefertiri?" She could feel disbelief course through the other soul. "It's only been a month, hasn't it? And already you're having his baby. Perhaps I will kill it before I leave your body, or maybe I'll keep you both and raise her myself. I can't let her grow up to be like you, can I? Maybe I'll have an accident and have Akhenre impregnate this body." She laughed at the loathing that passed over Nefertiri. "Oh, you think I'm so evil, don't you? You can't believe the pain I would cause for the sake of hate? I have done nothing compared to what shall come. I will do worse than death to you."

Ancksunamun scowled at the reflection before her and left the restroom. She was sick of watching this man sleep. When she entered the hall she saw Imhotep approaching and an idea came to mind. Instantly her arms encircled his waist and he hugged her gently, whispering, "He will live, my princess."

"I know," she whimpered back, hiding her face from his and smiling. He felt warm and she recalled nights long ago when she had used him, taken all he had stood for and made him give his broken heart. Ancksunamun rubbed his back sensually and looked up. "I'm tired of this place. I can't sit in there anymore, Imhotep. I…I need…" She trailed off and rested her head against him again. Nefertiri was solemn inside, knowing what Ancksunamun planned to take from them.

Imhotep tangled his hand into her long tresses and said, "Your brother has returned with keys to our rooms. He may stay and watch over Nycolaus, if you wish. I will take you to rest."

She nodded softly in reply, saying nothing and hiding the delight she had in knowing Nefertiri's pain. Together they walked through the cold hallways of the small hospital until they came to the waiting area. Imhotep waved down Jonathan's attention from a nurse and commanded, "Stay with Nycolaus. Nefertiri wishes to rest. You said our rooms are nearby?"

Running a hand through his hair, and then fishing out the keys, Jonathan nodded and handed them over. "Yep. Just across the street, actually. Drake's place. Not the finest, but close. They won't be going through our bags, anyway." He looked to his sister and rubbed her shoulder, and Ancksunamun found herself wanting to back away. She had no like for Rameses. "He'll be all right, old mum. You'll see."

"I'm sure he will," she replied, then turned towards the exit without another word. She paid no attention to his questioning of Imhotep, but caught the priest's answer about her stress. Then he was at her side and they left the hospital. Back in her time Imhotep would have treated the Greek Med-Jai, but this was a man who was lost in another time. She smiled at her own fortune of possessing Nefertiri's knowledge.

It was now dark and the stars glittered by the thousands, reminding Ancksunamun of just what she was fighting for. Life and all life would offer her. All she would take. She turned her head to see the priest's expression and scowled inside at his peaceful eyes. He opened the door for her—for Nefertiri, and she swept by with a smile. Ancksunamun would take that peace away from him again soon enough. She would take it away from all who had dared cross her.

They ascended the stairs in silence and searched for the room bearing the number upon the key. Then behind closed doors Ancksunamun started to use him again, drawing him in and sending her hands over the clothing he wore. He seemed different than before, less like he was trying to escape and more like he was trying to cage himself in this and throw away the key. Imhotep removed his jacket and let it fall to the floor as she touched the rim of his pants with unconcealed desire.

"My Nefertiri," he whispered, rubbing his hand down her cheek and pulling her into a hot embrace. "How I have missed saying that name. Nefertiri, I missed you. Nefertiri, I love you. Nefertiri, I need you." He kissed her neck and Ancksunamun smiled over his shoulder, her hands pulling at the shirt that hid him from her eyes.

"Imhotep," she breathed instinctively and he stilled for a moment, but continued his assault on her throat. It had been so long since Ancksunamun felt this, anything like it. Imhotep was fiery in his passion, made his women tremble in their need for him. She could remember long ago this heat had swallowed her hurt over Akhenre. Thinking of him made her frown. He still would not touch her. So be it. She would take this priest again if Akhenre refused her. Imhotep started pulling at the skirt she wore, drawing it up her legs so he could reach the skin of her thighs, no doubt. He enjoyed much contact.

When a warm hand finally found her leg she inhaled and looked up into his dark eyes. Inside Nefertiri trembled and Ancksunamun smiled. Imhotep brushed her hair back and pressed his lips against hers. Without thinking she kissed him back. Instantly he drew away, his hands wrapping around her arms as he looked her face over. "Ancksunamun," he hissed and she laughed. She had only seen him look this unnerved once—when he had found out she was a priestess of Set.

"What is this?" she asked, trying to pull away and failing. "Oh, I have all the passion of a woman and she kisses like a virgin. Is that it? You like them innocent, don't you?"

In disgust Imhotep pushed her away and moved to block the door. He crossed his arms and glared her down, not giving her an answer. She got up on the bed and watched him in amusement. "Such a shame. We could have had great fun together. Remember our passion? Remember hiding together in the shadows of the great hall, having each other there where no one would see?"

"Let go of her body," the priest replied simply and firm. She knew this tone, but was not intimidated.

Ancksunamun touched her hair and looked into a mirror across from the bed. "No, Imhotep. I'm not done with it. Nor do I plan on giving it back. To give it back I would either have to accept hell or take a new body. I will not have a body bound to Set again and you know what it takes to unbind a priestess."

At this he looked away and she could tell it had been in the back of his mind. Ancksunamun slid from the bed and started unbuttoning her shirt. Imhotep glared, but did not shy away when she pulled the shirt open. "I am not the man you ensnared, Ancksunamun. Nor am I your foolish Med-Jai. I will stop you."

"Won't you touch me?" she whispered softly, taking his hand and kissing it. "It's her body and she wants to be touched by you." He jerked his hand away. Ancksunamun smiled and watched him. "Do you love her enough to sacrifice yourself?"

His eyes became painfully resolved as he looked down and nodded. "I would give all that I am for her."

Ancksunamun nodded and began to button the shirt the princess had chosen for them. Whether she kept this body or took back her own, Imhotep and Nefertiri would suffer. She knew he would give it all for his little princess. He had for her and they hadn't even shared such a love as was between he and Nefertiri. "You cannot force me out, Imhotep. The spells that end your life will not wrench my soul from hers. I have to leave by choice, while there is still yet time." He looked pained at that and she touched his cheek. "Yes, the time will come when she and I are too entwined. The same happened to young Meela when I took her body. But there is yet time if you make the sacrifice. To unbind my servitude from Set a priest of Osiris must be killed. Will you do that, that she and your child might live?"

Imhotep's eyes flashed and she drew pleasure at the new worry etched on his face. He looked down at her stomach and stretched his fingers, but did not touch her. Ancksunamun took his hand and placed it there for him, whispering words that would show him the small life inside. His hand trembled at the revelation, the emotions changing on his expression. "My daughter," he breathed, then pulled his hand away. "And if I made the sacrifice? What then?"

"I will free her," Ancksunamun promised lightly, knowing she could always take it back later. He would be a fool if he didn't know that as well. "Shall we go, or will you wait until the others can stop you? Then again, perhaps they wouldn't. Perhaps Nycolaus would bless you for ridding him of your presense. Yet if you fail to save her, you will be no better than he thinks." She could feel fury pouring through Nefertiri's spirit.

He did, but his eyes wanted to believe, searched for a way out of this. "I will go," he finally answered, seeing no alternative. But he didn't look completely ready to give it all just yet. "I will speak with Akhenre about this. He will free her if you will not."

It was good enough. Ancksunamun smiled and leaned to kiss him, but he shoved her away in anger. Opening the door, she shook her head and said, "Take care to do this body no harm, Imhotep. Your child is vulnerable still."

Ancksunamun headed into the hallway without needing to see that he followed. He would do anything for love. She smiled at the irony of the two of them having been together. She would do anything for hate. Nefertiri wept inside.

*

**Karri**, thanks for the review!! :D Yes, our lovely Ardeth _was_ back. But now…:O ;) 

**Elenhiril**, actually I usually thank my reviewers at the end of the chapter, but you had reviewed behind, so I wanted to email you in case you didn't get ahead enough to see a thank you at the end of the newest. :) Thanks!! I'm glad you liked! Oh any dude…I saw a LOTR trailor at the movies today and Elrond is gonna be in it!! Heheh…I got afraid cause IMDB didn't list him in the credits, but there are more Elrond scenes than I initially considered. Woohoo!!!! 

**Marcher**, wow! I'm glad you thought I did Evy well…I always wonder. :D I thought it was time for a scuffle. ;) And wow...what I wouldn't do for a snog with Imhotep!!!. Thanks! 

**Lu**, thanks for reading and liking. I always saw the humor in Ardeth in the movies, aside from when he was being serious…:O hehehe. So I try to capture that when I can. 

**Hadassaknamu**, thank you for claiming this as one of the faves. :O That's so sweet! Hehehe. I had no idea Evy came back wrong…sounds like they were trying to open into another storyline, but I hear Rachael said she won't do another so, doh! I guess you know by now Rick'll be laying off Immy for a bit. ;) Thanks for giving me a good review. I fear it might be my last for what I did to Rick. :O

Thanks everyone!!!! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! -Angela 


	9. The Beginning Of The End?

Title: Passion - Chapter Eight – The Beginning Of The End?

Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

Akhenre hid under the night with his cloak drawn about him. He had to devise some sort of means of getting his love out of the hands of the others. Rick had been taken for treatment, he knew. He had watched from the shadows as they carried him away from the place he had been stabbed. Now he waited close to the hospital for his chance.

The blood was still on his hand, dried and serving its reminder of what he had just done. In another lifetime Akhenre would have been mortified at his actions, would have hated himself for such a thing. Not now. Akhenre hardened his heart against the guilt. He had one purpose and that was doing what he had failed to before. This was his second chance and he would not allow it to pass again. Nothing else mattered but that shining dream of saving her, that one light in the darkness.

Ardeth Bay had been weak when Akhenre had taken him, had been lost in his sorrow of what things Ancksunamun had done, what he had done and in the failure of 3,000 years ago. He had seen Ancksunamun as a girl marred by her life and by what things she had suffered. This man had felt guilt for a choice Akhenre had made so long ago to abandon his love. But now inside Akhenre could feel him give into rage against them both. Ardeth had lost his weakness and forged a new strength from watching his hand commit yet another act against the people he loved. Inside he stood ready to die to save them. 

That burning within frightened Akhenre, but did not change his resolve. For he had rage of his own. He wouldn't make the wrong choice now. He would save her and if that meant Ardeth Bay perished within then so be it. Neither man let the guilt take him. He could feel it coming, the fight between them that would end this one way or another. Ardeth had his faith back, but Akhenre refused to lose.

He stood in the shadow of an alley near the hospital, feeling the other soul inside stirring against him. Akhenre laughed as Ardeth struggled to once again take over. "I will not let you win," he hissed through gritted teeth and that drew more rage inside.

The force of Ardeth's anger sent Akhenre to his knees, but he swallowed back the strain and held onto control. Sweat beaded at his brow and his whole being trembled. Akhenre stared at the entrance to the hotel in which Imhotep and Nefertiri had disappeared. He gazed with firm, rock hard resolve and did not let his control slip. He couldn't close his eyes, couldn't hide from this as his counterpart had finally learned.

The fight kept him grounded, preventing him from even moving. All of his attention was upon Ardeth now. He lost himself in the fight, not letting his surprise shake his concentration. Even still Ardeth almost had him a few times, so intent was his need to be free. But he was no match and the Med-Jai within must have realized it, for soon the fight ended and Ardeth let go. That gave Akhenre no comfort, however. It wasn't the acceptance of what was going to happen as it had been before. This time Ardeth stepped away to watch and wait for his own chance to win.

Akhenre staggered to his feet and drew his hood down, breathing out into the cool air. He would have to prevent that chance from ever coming. A sound caught his ears and he turned, seeing Nefertiri exit the hotel again, Imhotep trailing. His own chance to free her had arrived. Akhenre drew the dagger he had stolen from Rick and advanced.

Right away Imhotep caught sight of him and took a defensive stance, but Nefertiri pushed him aside and glared as Akhenre approached. "Put the dagger away," she commanded and relief spread through him, though he found himself hard pressed to believe Ancksunamun was back.

"How do I know you are my love?" he asked, still holding his weapon.

Ancksunamun cocked her head and laughed, then lifted her hand to touch his shoulder suggestively. "Come to the bedroom and find out."

Akhenre put his dagger away and glared up at the priest. "What are you doing with him?"

It was Imhotep that answered, his eyes intent. "I come of my own free will, if I can have but one promise of you, Akhenre. I know not what sort of man hides within that soul of yours, but I believe you may be willing to do as I ask as the good man you were. Ancksunamun wishes my life in exchange for Nefertiri's and I will grant it if you will see she is freed and left to live without worry of you or your lover. I will have your oath as a Med-Jai."

"I give you my oath I will do mercy where I can. His life in exchange for Nefertiri's?" the Med-Jai repeated to Ancksunamun in a puzzled tone. She had a strong desire for vengeance, he knew, and wondered what she would want with Imhotep.

His love nodded once, her dark eyes traveling the priest over with ill intent. It was a look Akhenre would have lamented over, but for the blindness he imposed upon himself. Serving her was his purpose. When her eyes turned back upon him they shone with a light that made him forget any stray doubts. Even through Nefertiri's eyes he saw Ancksunamun's heart filled with hope and it filled him. "He will be a sacrifice to Set, that my body will be unbound. We will take him to the temple."

Akhenre regarded the priest with neutral eyes, and then looked to Ancksunamun uncertainly. Imhotep was a man that said one thing, but would take advantage of a situation if the opportunity arose. "He will come with us," she reassured him, taking a turn into the dim street and pulling him along. He shot a glance behind his back to see if Imhotep would follow and true to his love's faith, he did.

"Where will we go?" Ancksunamun asked in Nefertiri's soft voice and Akhenre sometimes found it difficult to see past that. Sometimes little flashes of the princess would mix with thoughts Ardeth had of Evelyn, but he would firmly push it awake with both hands. He would see mercy done where it could be as he said, but his compassion could not cloud over his goal.

Looking out into the distance ahead, Akhenre drew in a breath and replied, "I went to the home of a Med-Jai that is stationed here, lied to him and asked for his car. Knowing who I am, he gave it with no question. I hid it in an alley near the outskirts of town in case what transpired earlier would be reported to him and with that thought in mind I suggest we go from this city quickly. If the Med-Jai learn of Rick, then through him they will learn of what we are doing." He looked his lover over softly. "We face great danger from here to the temple."

Ancksunamun clasped his hand offered him a smile. He turned away from it, unable to bear it being Nefertiri that gazed back. He would be strong. "You have done well, lover. I doubted you when you freed Nefertiri, but now my trust is restored. We may face danger, but if you insist upon restoring my soul to my own body then we have no other choice." She kissed his hand. "Do not be troubled, Akhenre. All will go well."

Akhenre nodded his head, brushing his counterpart's dark hair back. Inside Ardeth was very worried, but resolved to his strength. Ancksunamun should know about this, but at the moment they both had too many other things to think about before getting into it. Looking to Ancksunamun again, he wondered if inside Nefertiri was gathering strength of her own. Her priest was now in grave danger for the sake of her life. She would suffer after Imhotep died. He could only imagine the fear she had now, waiting for the terrible thing to occur. 

Akhenre sighed and gazed at the sand below, resolving to free the princess whether Ancksunamun wanted that or not. Nefertiri could cause them no harm and she deserved at least that much.

*

Rick frowned at the wall, sitting propped up against his pillows in his in his hospital room, waiting for someone to come talk to him. It wasn't like he had to actually know what was going on, really. Insane curiosity was workable. Rick rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, wondering where everyone was. "Sure," he whispered to himself, picking at the sheet beneath his hands. "Leave me here alone. Probably out having all the fun and when Akhenre kills me it'll be all their fault."

He sank back against the bed and sighed, not really worried for himself. He was worried about them. From what he understood his two friends were being possessed and that could bring up all sorts of trouble. Everyone was in danger, not that that was anything particularly new. But from this little hospital bed he couldn't exactly do much to aid the cause.

He sighed in frustration and glared at the door. The first person to enter was going to get an earful if he had to wait much longer. As if on cue the handle began to turn and Rick cracked his knuckles. But instead of Jonathan or Evy or even Imhotep, it was only a nurse. A pretty nurse, but not who he expected. "Hey," he said, laying back down and playing up the weakness. "I don't suppose I have any visitors."

The young woman smiled and fluffed his pillow. "As a matter of fact, Mr. O'Connell, you do. There is a man outside wearing desert robes. He has markings on his face and says you would know his kind."

Instantly Rick felt uneasy. If Akhenre were the one in control things could get really bad for him. If it were Ardeth and he needed help, how could Rick deny him? "Did he give a name?" he asked, knowing Ardeth could have picked any name out of his friends and family and he would never have been the wiser.

"Ali, I believe. He said you knew him."

Rick frowned, but decided he was going to have to chance it if he wanted information on what was happening outside this tiny room. He nodded and looked around for something to use as a weapon, but there was nothing. He was left vulnerable. The nurse noticed his reluctance, but nevertheless obeyed and opened the door. Rick sighed in relief when the true Ali came in. "You can leave us," he told the young nurse and she left, giving Ali a distrustful glance as she headed out.

Whatever was on his mind, Ali didn't look happy. In a way Rick could almost say it was directed at him, or more generally he and his circle of friends. The Med-Jai took a chair and sat down, looking the American over. "I heard this morning that a white male had been stabbed and brought in. Normally this would not have troubled me, but Ardeth came to see me yesterday. Last night he, the creature and Miss Carnahan were seen leaving." Rick got a sinking feeling at that, but waited for Ali to finish. "So I chanced that it had been one of you. I see I was right. How are you feeling, Mr. O'Connell?"

Rolling his eyes, Rick brushed a hand through his hair and exhaled. "Like I've had the hell beat out of me. So, they left?" He cursed. "Where's Jonathan? Was he with them?"

Ali shook his head. "No. I saw Mr. Carnahan asleep in the waiting room when I came. I take it you did not know they were leaving?"

He didn't know much of anything right now, except that he was very perturbed at having this stupid wound. "Nope. Had no idea. Jonathan might, but I somehow doubt it, knowing my luck. Look, Ali, Ardeth's in some pretty serious trouble. We all are."

"What else could have been expected," the Med-Jai commented darkly, his gaze not friendly. Then again Rick could remember it hadn't been all-together that friendly the last time, either. "I don't know what you have gotten him into, O'Connell, but I do know it was a mistake for him to go with you to England."

Rick's expression hardened at that and his tone was no better. "Well, I think that was Ardeth's choice and personally, I don't blame him from the way the Med-Jai treated him before. Do you have any clue what that did to him, having his own people turn their backs on him because of his _compassion_? I wouldn't blame him if he ever returned."

Ali kept his cool at Rick's threatening demeanor, and the ex-Legionnaire could see a glint of regret written within those dark eyes of his. Still, Ali kept in agreement with the Med-Jai's decision. "We had to be sure he was not under the spell of the priestess, Mr. O'Connell. I will not justify their choices to you, other than to say because you are his friend I tell you why it was made. If his compassion's source had been from a continued spell upon him, then he could have put us all in danger. Suppose Ancksunamun's sway had been over him still and he killed a member of the tribe or did worse, helped her succeed in her goals. Do you honestly think, knowing Ardeth as he is, he would have wanted us to take that chance?"

At that Rick couldn't say much. Ali was right. Ardeth wouldn't have wanted them to endanger themselves for him. But it still irked him and Rick held onto that. "Okay. I see your point, but somewhere along the way Ardeth didn't. Or maybe he did, I don't know. I just know it hurt him like nothing else. But all this is beside the point anyway. He's not himself, Ali. That Akhenre found a way to possess him."

"What?" Ali exclaimed, standing from his chair. He paced a little, then looked to O'Connell. "You are certain? He seemed…strange, but still himself."

O'Connell nodded and drew himself up a little at the tenseness of the moment. What he wouldn't give to be out of this bed. "Yeah. Sometimes he fights Akhenre, I guess and takes his body back, but the other guy keeps coming back and he's brought Ancksunamun back too, putting her in the body of Evy. I'm not sure, but my guess would be their going to go back to that Temple of Set."

The Med-Jai paced a little more, running all that through his mind. "By Allah, we are again in danger. I must go warn my people. The priest, is he a part of this as well?"

Rick shook his head and watched as Ali started for the door. "Hey," he called, stopping him. "What are you going to do with them?"

Ali grasped the handle with true fear written in his eyes. "They must be stopped, one way or another." That was all he offered before leaving Rick alone to his thoughts.

"One way or another," Rick repeated, not liking the sound of that. He frowned and looked at the two tables for something, anything to help him out. The only thing even worth his attention was a heavy book. It was better than nothing—hopefully. Rick grabbed the book and hurled it at the door as hard as he could, praying it got someone's attention.

Unfortunately someone was already one step ahead of him and opened the door at the same time. A strangled shout announced that Jonathan had been the lucky victim and Rick smiled in satisfaction. At least it was the man he wanted to see. Jonathan came into the room, rubbing his shoulder with a very miffed expression. "I say. What the devil was that all about?"

Rick motioned him to hurry in and replied, "Close the door. We've got ourselves a problem and a half, Jonathan."

Carnahan nodded and grabbed the chair Ali had been sitting in. "I saw that Ali fellow racing out of here. You told him about Ardeth?"

"Yeah," O'Connell answered quickly enough, frustrated at the urgency he felt. "And I think I just got Evy and Ardeth into a whole lot more trouble. He said something about stopping them 'one way or another' and if you think about it, I'm sure you'll know what that could mean."

It took only a few seconds for Jonathan's eyes to light up in grim understanding. "Bloody hell! They…they wouldn't!"

They wouldn't. If only that were true, but Rick wasn't so sure. This was a people willing to kill innocents to prevent Imhotep from being raised, people who had turned their backs on one of their greatest heroes for safety's sake. They could kill Ardeth and Evy if necessary. The problem was, they might do it even if it weren't. Rick balled his fist and sent it into the bed, then leaned back. "I gotta get out of this bed."

Jonathan shook his head and looked him over dubiously. "You can't," he said simply and Rick gave him a smart look.

"No, really? I've been stabbed!" He glared at the wall, hating its color with more passion than he thought possible. "Wonderful. This is just great."

Evy's brother exhaled and stood, pushing the chair back against the wall. "Well, I'm sure Imhotep'll keep an eye on things and maybe the Med-Jai won't be as bloody thirsty…okay, so maybe they will." Jonathan went to the window and peeked out the shades, then snapped his fingers. "What about your scoundrel of a friend? Drake, wasn't it? Maybe he'd send his goons out there or something."

At that suggestion Rick brightened a little, but knew not to get his hopes up where Drake was concerned. He'd be lucky if the man didn't have it in for him for some reason or another. Still it was worth a shot. "Yeah…yeah. Good idea. You remember where the hideout is?" he asked and his friend nodded. "Right, well, get me something to write on. We'll just see how far Drake's friendship goes."

*

**Marcher** – Gut wrenching? Really? Woohoo! ;-) It'll get worse before it gets better. Woohoo! Thanks!! I'm glad you liked.

**Deana** – He had some things to take care of, as you now know. ;-) Thanks for the review!

**Karri** – Yes, but the effects were different at least. ;-) The first time was a shock into despair and the second a wake up call which Ardeth so desperately needed. Thanks!

**Elenhiril** – Disturbing? :-O You haven't seen disturbing! I mean, just kidding. ;-) Thanks for that kewl link!

**Hadassaknamu** – Oh, gotta love having fake nails. I usually end up getting them too long and kicking myself later for it. Doh! Yes, up close and personal. ;-) I thought it might add to the urgency of the story, not to mention how Ancksunamun's evil would be reflected in light of the fact that there's now a child she could be hurting with her hate. Thanks for reviewing!

Thanks to all the readers! Hope you are liking this. :-D -Angela


	10. Sitting Still

Title: Passion - Chapter Nine – Sitting Still

Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

After spending all day in bed, wondering and waiting, Rick had just about come to the point where he was willing to accept the possibility that Drake's men had killed Jonathan. Evy's brother had no returned since noon when Rick had sent him to the criminal's hideout. It was now getting close to nightfall and still no word.

Rick had worked for Drake for quite a while before finding Evy and getting himself into all that wonderful trouble that changed his life. He had quite a few reasons to feel a sense of loyalty to that man. But if so help him, if Drake had killed Jonathan, he was going to find himself at the sharp end of a knife. Rick wiggled his foot boredly, half ready to put the next person he saw at the sharp end of a knife. The suspense was killing him and each moment that passed meant Evy, Ardeth and Imhotep—not that he particularly minded the latter—were in that much more danger. "I'm gonna have to quite dealing with Med-Jai," he decided, feeling his blood pressure rise at the mere thought of one of those warriors taking his friends down.

He clenched his fist and smashed an unoffending pillow at his side, about ready to call the authorities on this. "Screw the Med-Jai secret," Rick hissed, ready to betray the knowledge of a race of secret people for the sake of two people he loved—and the freak. Ardeth would absolutely kill him for it, too.

But just as he was ready to punch the dented pillow again a sound caught his attention. Singing. Singing in the hallway, getting nearer and nearer. Jonathan's singing, the way he sang when he was drunk. Rick mourned the fact that he didn't have another book to throw.

The door burst open and in came two very cheerful forms, both familiar. O'Connell smirked and crossed his arms. "At least you got the job done, Jonathan, never mind how _long_ it took."

"It's my fault, Ricky," announced the very dark companion of Jonathan. He grinned and ushered himself into a seat, kicking his feet up on Rick's bed. "When he came I insisted we have a few drinks. A few turned into quite a bit, actually. We really meant to come right away." Drake inhaled deeply and rubbed his belly.

Rick nodded smartly. "Yeah, meanwhile my friends are in trouble. They could die, you know."

Drake shook his head and smiled. "Nope. Already sent a few men out towards the desert looking for your friends. Jonny here told me that much, at least, though no matter how drunk I got him he wouldn't tell me exactly what this is all about." The dark thief twirled a sapphire ring around his finger. "So, Ricky. Enlighten your old boss and try not to tell me a wild tale like last time."

"Right," Rick breathed, motioning for Jonathan to shut the cracked door. When it closed the ex-Legionnaire leaned forward with a conspiring glint in his blue eyes. "To begin with, my two best friends are possessed by two ancient dead people that are trying to hurt them. I hope your men don't kill them for fighting back, because in all likelihood they will—which I could have told you about if you had come sooner. Second of all, when they reach the Temple of Set, I'm sure something terrible is going to happen. Don't ask me what, but that's the way these stories go. Third, if something does happen, it'll likely be the end of the world. Sound good?"

For a long moment Rick's old boss said nothing at all. He chewed on a finger thoughtfully, took a few breaths and didn't look at all like he had heard anything of what Rick had just said. He was miffed. O'Connell sighed and opened his mouth to apologize for his irritability when Drake finally looked up and spoke with mild patience. "We didn't come right away, Ricky, because I knew about them leaving even before Jonathan came. My people saw, you understand. I sent some thugs out last night to watch the three of them. I thought the high priest was up to something, so I wanted to investigate. I gave explicit orders that the lady not be harmed, but I can't speak for your Med-Jai friend. They'll watch and report to me, and if Miss Carnahan gets into trouble, she'll be rescued." He smiled.

Rick sighed, feeling slightly ashamed of himself. He was behaving like a jerk and he knew it. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be…me. I'm just worried and being stuck here in this bed doesn't help."

"I understand," Drake answered, with a smile. "Your lady's in trouble. I'll send some more men out with more detailed instructions—assuming you tell me the whole tale. Is Imhotep the danger, here? I'm not sure why you're dragging him around, Ricky, but I understand he's very dangerous."

With a snort, Rick rubbed his temples, then looked his friend over. "How do you know?" So far as he knew, no one had told Drake about Imhotep.

There was a certain enigmatic grin that Drake got once in a great while that Rick found personally a little irritating. He supposed he shouldn't be all that surprised, really. Drake was pretty lofty about attaining any and everything he was curious about. He leaned back and studied Rick. "I wasn't honest with you last time, but when am I ever? Ask yourself how I happened to have one of the seals last time."

Rick frowned in thought, then shrugged. "You're not gonna try telling me you're really a Med-Jai, are you? They all seemed to be Arabic to me."

Drake laughed at that, shaking his head fervently. "No, no. Never that. My time for that passed a long time ago." He cracked a grin. "I'm not particularly fond of them, my friend and I do tend to distrust them, but I know them. I was adopted into a Med-Jai family as a kid and they were gonna train me up as one of theirs, but I never quite fit in. They're a little bit perturbed that a criminal like me knows their secrets, so you can understand why there's no love lost."

"Well, small world," Jonathan breathed, looking at his reflection in a nearby mirror. He squinted and stumbled a little. "Why'd you hide it, old boy?"

The assassin crossed his arms and looked the two of them over. "Frankly, before it wasn't necessary to tell. I'm not a Med-Jai and never will be one. When I learned you knew of them I didn't know what that meant, be it you were enemies of them or me. I don't like the Med-Jai, but I won't have their secrets out, either. I wanted to know how you interacted with them."

Rick nodded in understanding. "So Ali being caged was all a ruse, then?"

Again Drake laughed, his eyes very amused. "Hell, no. That robed terror tried to break in, knowing exactly what I would do if I caught him, so he paid the price." The thief looked at his old friend expectantly. "Anyway, perhaps you should tell me exactly what's up so we can get down to price."

At that Rick groaned, but he found it difficult returning that familiar grin. "Yeah, yeah," he replied, looking at his friend in a new light. It didn't make him feel any more trusting about the price, though. He smiled. "Did you know Ardeth Bay?"

*

Akhenre paced the desert, keeping an ever-watchful eye out for Med-Jai or any other possible interference. The night was young yet, but danger wasn't a respecter of time. They were being followed, obviously. Ancksunamun had seen them once or twice. Unfortunately Akhenre's stolen car had run out of gas nearly three quarters of the way to the temple, leaving them the unpleasant task of walking the rest of the way and making it harder to give their followers the slip. Her Med-Jai lover was a trifle concerned about them, but she wasn't. She had come too far for this to go wrong. She had been pulled from the very clutches of Hell.

She looked up at her lover as he came near and sat beside her. He too was quiet and his doubts about this whole thing troubled her. Akhenre wasn't the same man he had been back in ancient days. Or perhaps it was that he was too much the same. He was good no matter how he tried to be like her. She was beginning to find him colorless and that made her heart pang. Ancksunamun loved Akhenre, she truly did. But she was so changed, so different from him that it frightened her for them. She wanted to love him as she had, but darkness covered her and he was still bathed in light.

Imhotep brooded across from her, staring into the flames of their campfire. He had been completely silent the whole trip, unless spoken to. He looked like the young Imhotep who had been marred by the loss of Nefertiri's love. So beautiful in his pain. He was going to have to be the one that left this time. A sacrifice for her redemption. Ancksunamun thought that fitting. He had given so much for her sake.

"You truly love her," she commented, watching his resentful eyes rise from the fire. "You would give all for her to be free."

The priest looked back down and inhaled deeply. The hurt of 3,000 years was displayed clearly on his somber face. He didn't want to leave this world. "If I would give my soul for a woman I did not love, I would give it for her," was his reply, sorrowful and pretty to her.

A smile spread across her lips as she watched him suffer. "But you haven't given your soul for me, Imhotep. You gave it for her even then, for I had only the love of your pain to enjoy. You gave it to escape her torment."

Akhenre reached for her hand, his brown eyes ever filled with compassion. He looked at her reprovingly. "Must you speak of these things? My love, it is getting late. You should sleep."

Compassion. Ancksunamun had been spared little of it. Yet she knew all of the ways one could twist it. Suddenly she became curious about something and ignoring Akhenre's words, she said, "Would you speak with her if I let her free long enough?"

Eyes flashing, Imhotep's attention was quickly turned completely to her. He looked like he hungered for the very thing she was offering. "Ancksunamun," Akhenre started in warning tones, but a hand to his chest quieted him.

"He is going to die soon, my lover. Does he not deserve last words with Nefertiri?" The look of fear written in the eyes of both these men made her smile. "Will you not talk to her, Imhotep?"

Quickly was the priest's response—the only response one could give in a situation like this. Of course he would talk to her. "I will, if it is truly her and not you in her place." His tone was so pleading.

Ancksunamun closed her eyes and willingly let go, for the sake of knowing it would only cause them more pain. Nefertiri raced to the surface of their shared consciousness and when those eyes opened again, they were filled with fear. "Imhotep!" she cried, leaving her place in the sand and making her way to him. Evy felt her eyes filling with tears, both from hurt and anger. His expression was quite alarmed when she punched his shoulder as hard as she could. "You stupid idiot! How could you?"

He had the look of a mouse trapped by a cat, but even that wouldn't make her laugh. "Nefertiri?" he questioned, obviously in the dark about what was causing her anger. Maybe he wasn't even sure which woman she was, but he'd find out soon enough.

Evy punched his arm this time and his brow narrowed. Imhotep grabbed her by the wrists and held her still and that's when the true tears began to fall. "Don't die, Imhotep. Please," was all she could think to say and that brushed aside his doubts. Instantly she was pulled into his warmth and felt lips on her forehead. She could sense Ancksunamun laughing.

"My love, I will do as I must for you and our child," he told her in firm yet gentle tones as his hands touched her hair. "If this is what it takes, so shall it be. I will not budge on this."

Evy wiped her cheeks and turned to the other sitting in on their private moment. "Akhenre, please don't let her do this. Please. I know there must be some goodness in you. She doesn't love you."

The Med-Jai looked back with concealed feelings, the shadows of the flames dancing softly on his face. "I'll do what I must for Ancksunamun, Nefertiri." Her heart sank. "I won't abandon her to the torments of Set." Akhenre looked away and stood, moving away from them and trusting his lover and Imhotep's resolve to save her.

Turning back to Imhotep, Evy gave him her most wounded expression, but it didn't work. She knew he would go through with even death if it would save her. She had just begun to learn who he was and who they were together. And her baby…she would grow up fatherless. This couldn't happen. Imhotep smiled softly and brushed his hand across her cheek, the pulled her forward to his mouth. "Do not be afraid."

Evy scowled at him. "Don't be stupid. Of course I'm afraid." She nuzzled into his neck, wishing she couldn't feel Ancksunamun's interest. Her desire for pain in others was frightening to Evy. Ancksunamun's intent was not redemption, but to hurt everyone that had ever hurt her. Her soul was tortured by some sickness that affected everyone.

Imhotep pet her warmly, stirring again the fear of missing him. It wasn't fair that he had to give this up after everything that had been done to him. Evy hugged him close, letting a few more tears fall. "Why do these things happen to us?" she whispered against his shoulder.

"Do not become enamored of that question, Nefertiri," Imhotep answered her and she closed her eyes. He continued touching her back and shoulders. "Instead ask how you can go on and do what your heart tells you. Paint your toenails red and when Livia is old enough, do the same to her. I like red."

Evy laughed and looked up softly, touching his cheek. "Livia, huh?"

He nodded and kissed her hand. "Not pink or brown, my love. Red like the roses you showed me in England." He wiped at a tear that trailed her cheek. "Nefertiri, I am so sorry for all I have done. Please forgive me."

The urgency in his voice caught her off guard, threatening her eyes with moisture again. She could feel him shaking and it scared her. "Of course I forgive you. Imhotep, why wouldn't you believe that? I love you."

The proud priest closed his eyes and shook his head as if he wanted to escape some terrible reality. "Then that is the most I could hope for. I love you so."

"Imhotep," Evy breathed, pressing her lips against his and stealing a kiss as he fought himself. The most he could hope for? It occurred to her then that he might be afraid of what would happen to him. He was cursed…unforgiven? It was clear what Ancksunamun had escaped. Did he fear entering that? It was on her lips to speak words of comfort, but Ancksunamun would only use it to further his fears. The evil priestess couldn't hear her thoughts, only read her emotions. "Imhotep," she repeated, this time not in question. She pushed him back to the sand and he let her, accepting her body over his.

But something was happening and she knew that they wouldn't be allowed any more warmth in this coldness that surrounded them. Ancksunamun was fighting for control now. "Don't die," she whispered, touching his lips. Evy then slumped forward and relinquished control.

He waited and when Ancksunamun looked up, there was a smile written across her mouth. "Poor little lovers. If only the evil Ancksunamun would have mercy! But mercy doesn't exist, Imhotep. You will die tomorrow."

Imhotep shoved her off him and she laughed, but she had had her fill of tormenting him. Nefertiri had let something slip and she had to be sure it didn't do any damage to her already precarious situation. Ancksunamun stood up and walked through the sand to where Akhenre stood in silence. His back was to her and the vision brought little images to her mind of him leaning against the wall in the temple, taking his punishment after he had thought himself a murderer. She ran her hand up that strong back and he turned. "I have returned, lover." The priestess pulled him closer, noting the sadness written in those brown eyes. It hurt her. Imhotep and Nefertiri she could hurt. Ardeth Bay she could hurt, but not Akhenre. He was still innocent. "Would you hold me?"

Wordlessly Akhenre obeyed, wrapping her inside those warm arms of his counterpart's. She regretted nothing of what she was doing, except that he could see her doing it. "I won't fail you, Ancksunamun," he reaffirmed and she closed her eyes. He wouldn't fail her—not if he could help it. But she was failing him and a part of her didn't even care. He was so far away from her heart right now, yet all too near in certain ways. He wouldn't last in this world, she knew.

Ancksunamun thought back on Imhotep's plea for forgiveness. That she could never have and wanted even less. She wouldn't be what he wanted her to be. In that he would forsake her. A moment of disgust would take him away and he would hate the monster that she was. Imhotep gave that up for love, but she could never.

Akhenre trailed his lips to her neck where he thoughtlessly marked her. Yet Ancksunamun suddenly didn't have the energy to laugh at the strange feelings that brought to Nefertiri. He was in love with a fantasy of what she had been. She would be a fool for not knowing that. And she didn't have the heart to change him.

*

**Hadassaknamu** – Short reviews are happy reviews. I'm glad to get any thoughts. :-D Thanks very much!

**Lula** – You are so kind to say what you do. :-) Don't apologize for being late though…I'm thrilled to get any reviews whenever, as I said over AIM. It's a treat!! Thinks do look a little freaky, eh? Yikes and away! Hehehe. And things might get a teensy freakier in the future…muahahaha. I'm glad you like Akhenre – he's quite straight laced, huh? But he's quite willing to do anything to make up for her hurt. Thanks!!

**Fan of the Mummy** – I know…things look scary for Immy and Evy. :-O Thanks for sticking with the story and reviewing!! :-)

**Marcher** – Shhhhh! ;-) Hush, you! JK. I'm glad you liked Drake…I felt bad for his dying in our little RPG. Doh! But such is life…or death. Thanks for the review!! :-D

Thanks everyone else reading…I just got inspired and had to finish this chapter…and begin the next! Lol. Now that I've finally figured out where I wanna go with the plot. I was getting a little frayed there. -Angela


	11. Ruined

Title: Passion - Chapter Ten – Ruined 

Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*  
**_"So little of what seems to be is never really there. So much of what's here I resent. I am a demagogue. Born of eternal flaw. Forever just a memory, my friend. So when I disappear, she will still be here. Sifting my remains through the ashes."  
_**_Bottom Feeder, on Truthless Heroes by Project86_

The temple had remained unchanged, undisturbed as if no one could muster the courage to enter such an abominable place. Its walls were covered with words written in blood, each sentence speaking of pain and torture and glory to Set, enemy god of Osiris. Here he had killed Ancksunamun. The fatal mistake had been assuming they could continue together in the beyond. He had conceived nothing of how far her soul had been lost. These things were for a priest to know.

Now he knew, but all would be fixed. She would unbind herself to the horror that was Set and be freed of his evil. He held that moment to his heart like a whispered prayer of thanks. The terror of this place seemed as thick and hot as that which he had rescued her from. Yet Ancksunamun herself wore a smile as if she were right at home. Beside him she walked, her stolen eyes lit up in wonder and her stolen lips testifying to her pleasure at being here. She basked in the evil of this temple and he turned away, meeting Imhotep's glare. The priest said nothing, but plainly knew Akhenre's thoughts.

Akhenre knit his brow, determined to see this through. He had no love for Imhotep; never had. This man was just as evil as Ancksunamun had become and by all rights deserved death. Or perhaps that wasn't it. Perhaps Akhenre hated him for being able to do what he could not. That single failure hung over him like a rope from the gallows.

The stairs that led downstairs into the final chamber were still open, ready for any unfortunate explorer to stumble into their terrible depths. This evil place held no true power as long as it remained undisturbed and was not a place to make discoveries. Akhenre wished for this temple to be struck down by God and cast away from any human eyes. They descended and he lit the torches on the walls, shuddering at what sights the new light gave him.

The body of Meela had been left on the floor, but in the transition from here to the other side Akhenre could recall Ardeth Bay giving her the honor of crossing her arms in Egyptian fashion. And in that state she had remained. Ancksunamun stared at the body with neutral eyes and he wondered briefly what his love was thinking. He reached for her and she took his hand with a smile. "You must bind Imhotep, lover. Before my body can be unbound I must enter it again and Nefertiri will be free."

Akhenre widened his eyes at this and touched her hair. "What…what will happen? Will you be like that?" He glanced at the almost skeletal remains. The thought was unsettling.

"No," she replied right away as she bent to retrieve a discarded rope. She gave it to him with an amused glint in Nefertiri's brown depths. "Unlike some people, I do not require regeneration." Imhotep rolled his eyes and willingly held out his wrists. Inside Akhenre could feel Ardeth stirring. "My body will change without the consummation of a curse. You must call me back, however."

Imhotep was shoved behind the sarcophagus of Set where he would wait far from the exit to this chamber. Ancksunamun stepped beside him to leave Nefertiri. "If you try anything, Imhotep, I will enter her again and never let go." The priest glared back, but kept quiet. She turned to Akhenre. "When I leave Nefertiri will fall. Imhotep can care for her. Ignore it and immediately begin the spell, my lover."

Akhenre nodded and looked her over once, relieved at the change that would come. He and Ardeth both held a distaste for hurting Evelyn. "I will not fail," he repeated, needing to convince himself more than anything. Ancksunamun smiled gently and kissed her fingertips, then fell back. Imhotep dropped to the floor with her and that was his cue. Akhenre knelt down beside the body of Meela and began chanting the words that would breathe life back into this corpse.

At first nothing happened and that terrible dread of failure began to settle into his system. He couldn't accept that. Akhenre repeated the words again, this time with more command. Ancksunamun's fingers curled with a chilling papery sound that filled his ears. He got to his feet and backed away, watching and waiting. Imhotep yanked Nefertiri away from the coffin, but both stopped upon seeing what was happening beneath.

The skeleton jerked and writhed to life, causing Nefertiri to back into her priest with fearful eyes. Right away Akhenre felt the room become charged. Ancksunamun sat up and her skull turned towards him. He did not back down from it. The effect was slow but steady when her flesh began to return. He cared nothing to watch the process, except to keep his gaze upon her eyes. He was waiting for her to look back at him.

Suddenly there were two brown eyes watching his and an exultant smile. Ancksunamun was whole, her cheeks scarred with the markings of Set. She looked down at her shaking hands and laughed in disbelief. "Akhenre," she called to him and despite everything he had gone through to get to this point, he smiled. She was back and he had not failed her. Akhenre held his hand out.

Ancksunamun came up and took it, kissing first his palm, then his wrist. "The ritual," he breathed in want for her, but knowing they could spare no time in waiting. Imhotep and Nefertiri could escape easily in these quiet moments.

His lover laughed again, turning her palms up and gazing down. Her beautiful bright eyes gazed up in amusement. Something felt wrong. "Oh, I will kill Imhotep, my love. But to give up this power would be foolish. I will not unbind myself. I cannot, not now that I've felt the power return."

Akhenre's smile disappeared. He pulled his hand out of hers and looked into her face, letting the fullness of his shock show. "What?" he whispered, praying he had heard wrong. He could see it in her eyes. She would not unbind herself. For the power she had she would live as Set's and therefore continue down the path to evil. This wasn't about returning to the sweet, young girl he had fallen in love with. How could he have been so blind? He should have seen this coming.

The doubt was enough. Before Akhenre knew it Ardeth had thrown his will into an attack that knocked him out of control. Immediately their shared body hit the floor and everything went black. There were no sensations for him. No startled gasps, no visions of his concerned Ancksunamun, nothing. Just the blackness. And perhaps it was better this way.

Ardeth was too angry, too strong for him and right now Akhenre could not muster enough will to conquer his foe. He let go, knowing she was beyond his help.

*

Evy's eyes widened when Ardeth's body collapsed to the ground. She would have gone to him, but Imhotep held her arm tightly. "Nefertiri, we must escape," he whispered sharply. She watched as Ancksunamun threw herself down at Ardeth's side. Quickly turning to her priest, Evy spared him a smile of relief that he was alive as she began to untie his wrists.

"Akhenre," she heard Ancksunamun saying as the priestess desperately tried to revive her ancient lover. Maybe somewhere she did care for him. "Return to me, Akhenre."

Imhotep threw the rope from his wrists and pointed to the staircase, but Evy stopped him with pleading eyes. "We can't leave Ardeth."

She could see Imhotep's answer of what he thought of that, but Evy didn't care. Ardeth wouldn't leave her to Ancksunamun and she wouldn't leave him. "Nefertiri," he breathed, but she could tell he knew she meant business. He looked over her shoulder and sighed.

Evy turned back to the little scene across the way. They didn't have to wait long for whoever was in control to come back to them. She saw those dark lashes flutter and open, but the expression was vastly changed from the one Akhenre had been wearing before he fell. The anger made her swallow, the grim smile made her shiver. Ardeth threw Ancksunamun's hands off him as he sat up. He glared the priestess down with such a rage that Evy looked momentarily to Imhotep to see if he saw the same. The priest's eyes were grim. "Akhenre is gone from me," Ardeth said in low tones. "Completely."

_"What!?"_ Ancksunamun hissed, moving to stand, but Ardeth wouldn't let her. He gripped the fabric of her dusty sleeve and kept her on her knees. "And what will you do now? Defeat me?" She laughed.

Ardeth shook his head, never breaking eye contact with his tormentor. "No. I won't. I know now I cannot defeat this. I will give you what you want and you will let Evy and Imhotep leave."

Ancksunamun tried to get her sleeve from his grasp, but it did no good. "What I want?" she repeated sarcastically, raising her hand to hit him. Ardeth darted his hand out and grabbed her wrist before she could. "If you are so willing to believe you cannot defeat me, why bother fighting Akhenre?"

At that Ardeth laughed and the sound sent a chill through Evy. Suddenly she wasn't so sure she wanted to be here. The laughter died and the bitterness returned to his usually so calm exterior. "I said I could not defeat _you_. That doesn't mean I'm going to give myself over to _him_. He was afraid of what you are. I am not. Not any more."

"Because you will defeat me?" Ancksunamun questioned in amused tones.

Evy edged a little closer, wishing she could understand what he was doing. "Ardeth?"

He didn't even look at her. "Be silent, Evy. No, my Ancksunamun. I do not fear you because I no longer care what you do with me, only that you do it to _me_ and not Akhenre. I'll not let you ruin him as you ruined me."

"Ardeth?" Evy repeated, not liking his tone and harsh words. "You aren't ruined, Ardeth. We…"

This time he did look at her and she trembled. His anger shook her and obviously Imhotep as well, for he was already moving forward. Evy grasped his arm and stopped him. "I said be quiet, Evy," Ardeth commanded her in express tones. "I've made my choice." He looked down at the ground, then back into the face of Ancksunamun. "I give myself to you. Imhotep, take Evelyn away from here and never let her return."

"They are not yours to free," Ancksunamun told him, jerking her arm away finally. She stood up and turned on them with the intent of torment written in her glittering eyes.

Behind her Ardeth also stood and Evy watched as he whirled the concubine back to face him. For a moment he only watched her face, a face Evy imagined was probably filled with shock and chagrin, then he smiled. Closing his eyes, Ardeth bent down and pressed his lips into Ancksunamun's, drawing the priestess' body closer to his. "You _will_ let them go," he said softly as he touched her face. "Then you and I will be alone."

"All right," the priestess replied in amused tones as she ran a finger down his cheek. He kissed that finger and Evy covered her lips at the sight. Ancksunamun turned towards she and Imhotep, crossing her arms. Evy didn't want to leave him to this. "I'll humor you, Ardeth. You wish to play this game, we shall. I can have my revenge later. Nefertiri and Imhotep, you are free to go."

"No!" Evy snapped, her face angry as she approached Ancksunamun. Imhotep wrapped his arm around her waist and eased her away from certain danger. "Ardeth, you can't mean this! It is bloody well not too late for you and I won't hear anything more of _that _nonsense!"

She would never forget the expression in his dark eyes as Ardeth wrapped his arms around Ancksunamun, mirroring what Imhotep did presently with her own waist. Evy looked and saw true brokenness and acceptance there and it frightened her more than anything. He couldn't possibly mean this. "Know this, Evy and tell Rick and your brother. When you leave I will forget you. I do this for you now because of what you meant to me, but you can leave only once. After I will owe you nothing and will belong to Ancksunamun." Evy could read between those lines, but she shied away from believing he could mean it.

He gave no sign that he had other plans despite Ancksunamun's back being turned to him. Her heart pounded as the seconds passed. Ardeth only watched in silence with no hint of assurance. The priestess reached her hand back and stroked his dark hair, glaring at Nefertiri with a victorious grin. Evy didn't know what to do. How could she leave him like this? Surely he had some sort of plan. Imhotep took her arms in his hands and gently pulled her away towards the stairs.

Giving Ardeth another glance did nothing. He revealed nothing. Getting a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Evelyn turned her back on her friend and let Imhotep direct her up the stairs. She wanted to be free of this place, as far as she could get. They reached the top floor and she needed no further nudging. A trip down the main hall and past the body of Lock-Nah brought them into daylight. "How?" she asked softly, turning to Imhotep once they got out. "He's not…you don't think could possibly want to be with her?"

Imhotep pulled her into his arms and gently pet her. "I know not, Nefertiri. She is a plague that makes men lose their minds. I pray your Med-Jai friend is only bluffing, my love. If not…"

"Don't finish," she told him, pulling away and wiping her cheeks. "Let's leave. I want a warm bed and good food and a hot bath and I'm not going to get it standing around this awful place. We'll think of something."

Evy turned towards the rocks they would have to navigate to be free of the temple, not waiting for words or comfort. Imhotep gave none. What could he say? This wasn't happening.

*

Ancksunamun watched after her two freed prisoners with a small smile written across her lips. The arms of her enemy were around her and his mouth dangerously close to her neck. She touched his hands and hummed in contentment. "You have beguiled me out of my vengeance, Ardeth."

"So what if I have?" he breathed back, laughing lightly. He shoved her away from him. Now it would begin. The truth of his feelings. She turned back without losing her good humor and he smiled back. Spreading his hands, he said, "So we are alone. Will you make me yours completely? You have already mind and soul."

This was truly a strange demeanor for the Med-Jai. It was not undesirable, but confusing for her. How much did he mean? How far would he go? He surely wasn't ready to go the distance for her yet. If it came to killing Nefertiri or any of the others she had no doubt that he would side once again with them. His sudden acceptance wasn't what had driven her to let Nefertiri and Imhotep leave. There would be time for torment later. No, what had made the offer so tempting was just how close he was to truly being hers. "I'm not so sure I have ownership of your mind yet, love," she told him, letting her eyes roam the body she had battered a short time ago.

Ardeth leaned back against the sarcophagus of Set, his eyes a mask of hurt, hate and desire. The desire, she was certain, was to escape this madness. He knew exactly what he was walking back into and probably hadn't been lying when he said the next time he saw his friends he would belong to her. He knew what she was capable of, but for the love of his friends he would give himself to her. The Med-Jai cocked his head. "You doubt ownership of my mind, yet you believe you have my soul?" he questioned with a smart tone.

Ancksunamun crossed her arms and nodded with a certainty. Of that fact she had no doubt. Ardeth could be as angry and contempt-filled as he wanted for in that she owned him and would claim even more. He would fight, but he would lose. "I own your soul, Ardeth Bay. Look at you, standing there hating me for turning your world upside down. Tell me I haven't filled your mind since we met." The cynical challenge in his eyes flickered out as he turned away from her intense gaze.

He knew it was true. The priestess laughed and approached, sending her hand over his strong shoulder. She was going to enjoy breaking him. Ardeth Bay was no ordinary man. That was certain. In so many ways he was stronger than Akhenre, yet in others as weak as a newborn babe. She could remember him in torture, holding himself against the pain and the willingness for it he had after thinking he killed Evy. He was so scarred by her. So beautiful that way. Ancksunamun leaned forward to kiss him, enflamed for this man because of what he could become. She could do this to Ardeth, but not Akhenre.

Ardeth closed his eyes and let it happen, but did not return her lust. Not yet. She took the full opportunity to explore his mouth, then pulled back. "Ardeth, I will forever be a part of you, love," she whispered, touching his lips softly. Just the right balance of pleasure and torture and he would fall. "You think you can resist me and maybe that will be true," it wouldn't, "but I will always haunt you. Last time we had a relationship of pain. Let's try pleasure."

"No," he replied, shoving her hands away with darkened eyes. "You'll not have me that easily."

Biting her bottom lip, Ancksunamun watched a moment, reveling in this new challenge. The chase would be quite invigorating and when she captured his heart, that much more intoxicating. "Good, lover. Fight me. I'll enjoy that," she told him, reaching for his hair. He slapped her wrist away and she laughed, then called her powers forth. His eyes widened quite prettily when he found he could no longer move. "Tell me," Ancksunamun whispered, petting his hair possessively. "Had you counted on my power growing to this level? I am a Chosen of Set and he delights in the works of my hands. No, my lover. You won't be killing me as you may have planned and don't waste your prayers asking for me to kill you in haste or mercy. I'll never let you go now, Ardeth. You think I've ruined you now? I plan to destroy you completely and when you bow at my feet begging for death I will claim you as my own. Let's see how strong the heart of a Med-Jai truly is."

Ardeth glared down at her, shifting at her soft, caressing hands that trailed his sides. He could do nothing against her if she chose to force this on him, but the time for pleasure had passed. She would have that, but not by force. All the things that he kept secret inside his now fragile heart, everything he didn't want to give her, she would take from him and he would willingly allow it.

She could see it in his eyes, too, as she took the rope that bound Imhotep from the floor and wrapped it around his wrists. He knew he was fighting a losing battle. Ardeth looked away from her and exhaled a shaky breath, then pleaded in low, frightened tones, "Please don't make me kill them."

Ancksunamun laughed and let him free from the spell that held him immobile. Ardeth dropped to his knees and stayed there, now fully comprehending what he had just gotten himself into. The very things that hurt him so badly a month ago he would face again. The priestess tucked her hair behind her ears and knelt down before him, tilting his face towards hers. Leaning close, she pressed her mouth against his and rubbed his arms and shoulders comfortingly. "I promise you this, Ardeth. You won't have to feel made to kill them when you do it. It won't hurt and you won't feel guilt."

The expression he returned made her fill with delight. He was truly breathtaking when afraid.

*

**Deana** – I'm glad you're enjoying!! I hope they all live through this too. ;) Thankya!

**Karri** – Well, as you now see, Ardeth did come out on top…not sure how long he's gonna stay there, though. ;) Thankie!

**Marcher** – I'm glad I'm keeping you guessing. :D Tis my aim. No, Akhenre won't see it through to the end…not sure if giving up was a betrayal, though? Thanks!

**Lula** – who hasn't gotten this far yet, or rather has once she reads this, :O I know you liked Akhy, so sorry he's gone! But at least Ardeth saved him from certain insanity. Lol.

Well, I was inspired still, so I wrote this up quick…my plots are still swinging in a few different directions though. Hmm. We'll have to see how far things go on different planes. Hope you all are still enjoying, even if it's getting darker. :O I can't help it…I live for writing Ardeth in the dark. Poor guy, God love him—or Oded rather. :D Thanks for reading!

-Angela


	12. Innocent

Title: Passion - Chapter Eleven – Innocent

Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

He was slow to awaken. He knew there was little reason that he should be awake, for this day would be filled with desolation—as would the days that followed. This was the sacrifice he made for Evy and the man she loved. Ardeth had no desire to leave this world, but if he failed to find a way to kill Ancksunamun then he held little doubt that thoughts of death would find him. She was stronger in her magic than before, a fact he hadn't counted on. That frightened him. He had to kill her, even if it meant dying himself, but if her spells constantly protected her, what then?

Could she be killed in her present state? There had to be something, some weakness.

He himself was a weakness, Ardeth knew. Her obsession with him was nothing if not consuming in all appearances. And when she finished breaking him she would likely move on to another—perhaps Imhotep, or someone else. Ancksunamun was empty inside and did all within her power to fill that void. He still mourned that for her, that she had been driven to such a state. 

But he no longer felt guilty. Akhenre had offered her redemption and still she had turned away, too far gone from sanity to desire salvation. The path she traveled was of her own doing.

The coldness of the floor seeped through the fabric of his clothing, spreading a chill over his body, so reluctantly he allowed himself to rouse. His arms were bound behind his back and his ankles tied, he soon discovered—much to his irritation. It was a hard, clumsy trip to sitting up. In the dim, dying torchlight he discovered he was alone. He didn't like that. Ancksunamun could be anywhere, doing anything to anyone. Perhaps she had gone after Evy and Imhotep anyway, making his sacrifice in vain. Ardeth leaned back against the stone wall and exhaled. Maybe there wasn't any escape from this.

He glanced at the door with that very thing on his mind, however. He was a brave man, he knew that not in immodesty, but even the bravest man would be foolish not to fear that which could defeat him. Ardeth truly did not know if he could win this time. Ancksunamun was gone. He could get up if he chose, get out of this and disappear forever. Save himself from this terrible fate. Yet he remained on the floor like a puppy waiting for his master to return.

Time passed, leaving him to his solemn thoughts until finally the sound of footfalls filtered down from the stairs. Two pairs. Ardeth sat straight quickly, wondering if Evelyn and her priest had defied his orders never to return. A small cry proved that wasn't the case. A form tumbled down the stairs and a sharp laugh followed. Ardeth's eyes widened when he saw who had fallen.

He had grown a little thicker, more muscular and had a little more facial hair, but that boyishness that was Abdu was unmistakable. His young friend, who had all the promise of becoming a good hearted, strong warrior for his people, raced to his feet and pulled at the ties holding his wrists behind him. "I'll kill you, witch! I hate you!" he shouted in near hysterical rage. But his strength wavered, his face pale and stricken. The boy dropped to his knees and hovered as if he were going to be sick. Something had happened.

Alarmed, Ardeth leaned forward as if it would bring him closer to the anguished young Med-Jai. "Abdu," he breathed as Ancksunamun came down the stairs, tossing his scimitar to the concrete below. Her body was no longer clothed in the ragged, decayed dress she had died in. She had replaced it with the clean robes of a Med-Jai woman. "What has happened?" he demanded of the priestess, afraid of why she would be wearing such clothes. They certainly weren't on loan.

Ancksunamun ignored him and used her magic to refresh the torchlight. Bay brushed his questions of her aside and concentrated on Abdu, who looked for all the world as broken as he felt. "I killed her, Ardeth," he sputtered, tears flowing freely down his tattooed cheeks. He looked up at his older friend and Bay felt his pulse rise. "What have I done?"

Ardeth had been through much in his fifteen years over Abdu. He knew the evils of the land and more acutely knew the evils of this woman before them. And knowing all this he had been torn by her. Abdu was an innocent, plunged into the very things Ardeth himself had not yet overcome. "Who?" he asked gently, knowing in himself that talking would help.

The young man's shoulders slumped and his eyes twinkled with wetness. He looked so startlingly broken that Bay idly wondered if he hadn't killed the entire Med-Jai tribe. "I can't…I can't…" Abdu whispered, falling back against the ornate sarcophagus of Set. He leaned against the tomb to brace himself through his hurt. Ardeth saw it all pass through the youth's expression: fear, grief, self-loathing, and desperation for peace—those feelings that revisited the elder. "Why couldn't I stop myself? I'm stronger than this! Stronger!" Ardeth looked away, unable to watch Abdu suffer. It brought up a well of emptiness in him…the fear that they might not make it through this.

With a soft expression Ancksunamun crouched beside the boy, petting his dark hair much as she had Ardeth's. "Shhh, my little love. The hurt will pass." She had a mother's touch with him, comforting him in way that sickened Ardeth. She looked at the older Med-Jai. "I went out to survey that which will be mine—that which _you_ will help me to attain, and saw a sweet, innocent sight. He and a pretty little lover were out last night, kissing and touching each other in the sand." She cocked her head slightly. "Then he killed her."

"You forced him to kill her," Ardeth amended in dark tones.

Ancksunamun rubbed Abdu's shoulder. "That, my Ardeth, depends on how you define being forced. I made him see my face and hear my voice instead of that of his lover. I whispered to him that it was I he was kissing, I told him my name and he more than willingly killed the girl beneath him. Then, as she lay there dying, I showed him what he had done in haste." She smiled and brought Abdu's face to hers. "It's all right, young one. Shhh. I'll train you to be just like Ardeth. You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Please, leave me," Abdu whispered, staring at the ground in disbelief that reality could be so cold.

The priestess traced his jaw, then forced him to face Ardeth. "If only he could have stopped me, young one. Abdu is it? If he had only stopped me from returning. Then your pretty love would no doubt be whispering your name in pleasure now."

She meant to turn Abdu against him and by what Ardeth saw written in those tormented, light brown eyes, it wouldn't take much effort. He shook his head, knowing that this wasn't the time to be against one another. "Abdu, she is trying to make us enemies. Don't listen to her. You don't know all of the facts."

Abdu pulled himself away from Ancksunamun's touch and leaned tiredly against the sarcophagus again. "I'm not stupid, Ardeth, even if I am as weak as you." He closed his eyes tightly, obviously trying to stop the tide of tears.

Ancksunamun lowered herself to sit beside Abdu, watching Ardeth through amused eyes. "Do you want me to hurt him?" she whispered sensually, brushing her hand against his side. "Or I could let you hurt him. What would you like, my little love?"

The youth gave no indication that her caress had any effect, whether pleasing or otherwise. He merely stayed rested, glaring at Ardeth through half-lidded, pain-ravaged eyes. Ardeth no longer felt the guilt of where Ancksunamun had ended up, but it hit him then just what the cost of his blind compassion would be. Abdu knew it too. The older Med-Jai could feel her words echo through that angry gaze. If only, if only. 

"Abdu," Ardeth said evenly, trying to pour reason through his worried voice. But the boy wouldn't have it.

Abdu turned his cold glare back to their captor, hissing in such a contemptuous tone that Ardeth again had to look away, "Do what you will, witch. Kill us for all I care. We are _both_ deserving of that fate!"

The priestess took on a pitying air as she soothed her young victim and Ardeth could only watch in sadness. Abdu was like any young Med-Jai: impetuous, enthusiastic and quick to judgment. It was the downfalling of all young, male warriors and such rash choices to retribution could, like last night, lead to tragedy. But Ardeth didn't blame the boy. He was being his age. He blamed himself and Ancksunamun would feed off of that. 

So he said nothing and watched until Ancksunamun came to some sort of decision. Her lips twisted suddenly into a grin with hidden purpose and she reached behind Abdu, untying his roped wrists. "He can do me no harm," she explained complacently as she stood up from her work. Abdu made no move to attack and Ardeth was thankful for that wisdom on his part.

Ancksunamun next came to him and despite agreeing with Abdu's choice of doing nothing, Ardeth found himself tempted to attack her. She shoved him against the wall and freed him, but made no move to leave afterwards. His master began petting him and Ardeth heard the younger Med-Jai grunt his assessment. "You should have given in to me last night, Ardeth. All I wanted was a time with your body and look what refusing got you. Now will you still deny me?" With a small smile Ancksunamun took her manipulation further by pulling him into a kiss.

Her hand found his stomach and Ardeth pushed her from him. He was tired despite the sleep he had gotten. But this was only the first hour of the day. He couldn't give in to this, he couldn't play into her hands like this. Not until all hope was gone and even then he prayed death would come first. "Do not touch me, Ancksunamun. I will never give in to you." Above all else Abdu needed to see he wasn't on this evil woman's side.

A small flicker of anger smoldered in her dark eyes, but he could see she had counted on this. Ancksunamun sat up folded her arms around her knees. "Very well, my love. Let us instead play a game. As you know inside Nefertiri there is a child but three weeks conceived—barely a thought in her mind. I want you to cause her to miscarry, whether by poison or," she smiled, "an accident." She was sick. Beyond evil. He opened his mouth to give her his disgusted answer, but she held her hand up. "Or you can choose that I end the life of another Med-Jai. You won't have to do the killing. I'll do it. Which will you choose?"

Ardeth looked away, knowing his mistake. She was trapping him into a no win situation. "Take me," he breathed in low, husky tones. When she said nothing, he met her eyes. "I give in to you. Take me. I'll not make that choice if all you desire is to use me."

Ancksunamun's ruby lips spread into a smile and he allowed himself to appreciate it and the softness of her hair. He didn't want her touching him, but there were worse fates than the attentions of a beautiful woman. It wouldn't mean anything. A moment's gaze into her eyes told him that she knew that as well and wouldn't have it. "No, my Ardeth. You passed your chance by. Now you have another choice. Make it, or I shall make it for you."

He was trapped. Abdu glared, having his own choice firmly in mind. But Ardeth's loyalties weren't so cut and dry. His mind kept screaming at him, saying that Evy didn't even know this child. If a Med-Jai were killed, they would be missed. He could poison Evy and she would never know…she would think it was nature's choice. An image rose to mind of her teary face, Imhotep trying to comfort her.

Fool's logic. He couldn't rob Evelyn of her baby and three weeks old or not, it was a human life. The thought of living with that made him ill. Yet someone would lose a brother or sister or mother today. "I cannot make that decision, Ancksunamun. You know I can't. If you kill someone it will be your own doing."

"As you desire, my Ardeth," she replied, standing to her feet and heading up the stairs, leaving them both untied. He listened as she closed the stone doors that would undoubtedly lock them in.

His eyes slid to the scimitar a few feet away.

*

The desert was hot today, like everyday and Evy was tired already. Two strange men—their followers from the days past, she suspected—had shown up some distance from the Temple of Set by miracle and offered to help them to Cairo. The help was very welcome.

Evelyn was surprised at how this ordeal was wearing her out. She sat behind Imhotep atop a gorgeous Arabian horse, slumping into her priest with her arms around his waist. Occasionally he would pet her barely clasped hands and she would lose her precarious balance, which immediately won him a half-hearted rebuke and a pinch. At least if offered her a diversion.

She worried for Ardeth constantly. Her friend was likely going through hell right now for the sake of her safety. That left a cold feeling in her. His eyes haunted her, that hopeless, fearful expression of knowing what would happen if he stayed with Ancksunamun. And here she was, riding away to safety. If Cairo even offered that for long. Someday Ancksunamun would either kill him or stop humoring him, then she would come for those she had left behind.

Evy sighed and felt Imhotep do the same. He worried for her. The priest cared that her friend was in trouble, but she was always forefront on his mind. She and their baby. Again his hand slipped over hers, but this time she was prepared and didn't jar. "You are under too much stress, Nefertiri. Our daughter will feel it."

Nuzzling against his back, she sighed again, wishing he would stop. She knew he only meant well, but how could she turn her feelings off? Still, Imhotep wasn't one to argue about such matters. He was firm in his resolve. "I'll try to sleep," she told him gently, feeling almost strange to be with him again.

Their relationship was a month old. A month and a week, now. Their romance was odd enough without having Ancksunamun cloud things with her games. Evy could feel the other woman's hate for her priest whenever she looked at him. It made her want to hold him, love him, but she couldn't help but feel strange.

Of course she felt strange anyway, not just with him. Ancksunamun had been so much a part of her this week, had dominated her unlike anyone ever had or ever would. Evy could well imagine why Ardeth feared her. But she had grown to know this person and while she in no way cared for Ancksunamun or wanted her back, she still felt alone now. It was unsettling.

Imhotep could sense the change in her, but bore it patiently. He wouldn't pressure her for closeness and that was nice. The thought made her hug him momentarily, and he brought one of her hands to his lips. "Do you love him?" he then asked, and that question threatened to make her lose balance again.

She pulled away from Imhotep and leaned over, trying to see his face. "What on earth would make you ask that?"

He didn't look directly at her—a thing he did when he was trying to be the better man—and said, "You worry so."

"I'm not allowed to worry for my friends?" she asked. She made ready to pinch him again if he answered wrong.

Imhotep reached behind him and grasped her thigh without breaking concentration on their leader. "Not when they are male." He squeezed her leg and she jumped, then slapped his shoulder. "Truly, Nefertiri. I know Ancksunamun must have wanted to lay with him. And you knew him before me."

"Oh, for goodness sake," she breathed, wrapping her arms around him again and giving him a tight squeeze. "You're jealous of all things. She wanted to, yes. But Akhenre wouldn't allow it. Imhotep, I do love Ardeth and yes, we will have a different bond after everything that's happened, but that doesn't change _us_. I _love_ you. I forgive you." Evy kissed his shoulder, knowing he was a man that had a lot to carry. He had done so many terrible things and in his position, who wouldn't find forgiveness hard to believe? She wanted to take that away from him, make him feel like the past 3,000 years were worth the wait for her love. She would certainly try. "Do you understand me?"

The priest nodded his head and darted his hand back again, squeezing her thigh in a very ticklish spot. "I understand, my love." He waved his hand in dismissal. "But I like not this loving of male friends and having bonds. Do away with it."

"Ooh!" Evy hissed, giving him a sharp slap on the hip.

He wiggled his finger chidingly and retorted in a quite serious tone, "Obey me, Nefertiri."

At that she laughed, drawing his face around for a kiss. Imhotep pulled her arms around his waist again and she leaned close to his ear, running her hand up his side. "Mmmm. You know I love it when you're imperious." Her lover smiled and she felt better.

"Truly?"

"No."

*

**Elenhiril** – Thanks for the review! Ugh, I hate studying. I feel it calling to me as well. Doh! :D

**Lula** – Actually, my plan wasn't to have Akhenre back, but I'm reconsidering as an idea has sprung to mind. I'll have to see which way I like better. Hmmm. I'm happy you like what I'm doing. Yes, having one's with Ardeth is a nice thought. ;) Which way to the matrix? It might come to that for our hero. :O Yes, we both do like to see Ardeth in those very distressful sitch's…poor guy. ;) Thanks a bunch!

**Hadassaknamu** – Thanks…hope you enjoyed their moment up there as well. ;) They need a rest from Anck…everyone does! :D

**Mommints** – Yeas, I talk about Ardeth quite a bit. *lesigh* Him's such a pretty man. ;) Thanks for the review! Always nice to see a new face. I'll have to check into your story tonight!! :) I meant to last night, but ff.net was down! Doh!

**Deana** – Thanks as always for reading and giving me comments, cheering and reminders too. ;) Lol. I run this work by you first, so if the others think I'm nuts, I'm blaming you! HA! No, not really. ;) Thanks very much, my friend!! :D

Thanks everyone…hope you're enjoying. :O -Angela


	13. Where Your Innocence Dies

Title: Passion - Chapter Twelve – Where Your Innocence Dies

Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

"Abdu, leave the weapon where it is," Ardeth said gravely, watching Abdu pace the cold lower chamber of the Temple of Set. The youth's feet scraped against the dusty stone beneath them and echoed. He was still very volatile and under the circumstances one needed to keep a cool head.

But there was no reaching him right now. Lashami's death was wrapped around the soul of Abdu, threatening to destroy him. He stopped in front of the discarded scimitar, his expression dark. "So we should sit and do nothing, Ardeth?"

Ardeth narrowed his brow, frustrated on top of his worry. The moments passed slowly and each grew more intense as the boy struggled with the pressures within. He was going to have to let go of his pent up energy somehow and it looked more and more like they would argue despite Ardeth's attempts to talk Abdu out of his agitation. "She let us free with a weapon in the room, Abdu. There is a reason for that, make no mistake. The moment one of us uses it she will have gotten what she wants."

Abdu began pacing again, turning his head with the flow of his moments to glare at Ardeth. The older looked down, knowing anything he might say could escalate the growing problem. Abdu stopped again and grunted. "How many times have I seen that sad expression after battle? How many times have I thought you must have such a good heart, to be affected by death and tragedy?" He kicked at the floor and began pacing again. "I think you're afraid of me. You do not want me to have it, thinking I would do you harm because of my anger."

At that Ardeth looked up, wishing he could somehow take this boy's pain away. He could have stopped it if he had given Ancksunamun what she wanted, but he wasn't perfect. He didn't always have the right answer. Abdu shook his head. "You have changed, Ardeth, if you fear that. I am angry with you, but I do possess a measure of self-control. I would never kill you in cold blood. But perhaps you are used to thinking in such ways." Ardeth said nothing and Abdu took the initiative that had been building. He brushed aside his elder's concerns and took the scimitar into his hand. "Her foolishness will end her life."

It was time to confront him. If Ardeth could distract him, direct his anger towards him enough, perhaps it would keep him from attacking the priestess. "I have changed, my friend, but I fight the same evil you fight. Yes, I had compassion for her and yes it blinded me, but that doesn't mean either of us should turn away from using that emotion again. It is who we are."

It was working. The boy's anger flared, but he still held the sword. "Who do you think the Med-Jai are, Ardeth?" he spat back with hard eyes. "We are not some priestly order dedicated to the betterment of mankind! We are here to protect the world from monsters like that creature you consort with, but it is not in the Med-Jai code to bandage scraped knees and give madwomen rule over innocent lives for the sake that she might what? Apologize?"

Ardeth rubbed his arm and looked down, not certain what to say. Abdu was right. His morals weren't Med-Jai standard. They were passed down from his father, taught to him as a private Bay family code. He had never questioned it before. "I made a mistake," he told Abdu, feeling like all his faith in the things he knew were right was being stolen from him. In that he was like Imhotep, he realized.

"A mistake," Abdu repeated scornfully, with more words on his tongue. But before he could say them the stone slabs on up the stairs were rolled back into the wall. Ancksunamun was back. Both men turned towards the stairs.

They heard Ancksunamun's footsteps falter and they waited, both unwilling to help her if she were injured. Bay almost expected her to stagger down the stairs into his arms, but that did not happen.

She stopped somewhere halfway and at first it seemed as if she fell. A form tumbled down the stairs and spilled onto the floor before then, a form much like their captors with long, dark hair and robes. But the hair was curly and the face older. The priestess returned back upstairs, locking them in again.

Suddenly the scimitar Abdu had been holding hit the floor, but Ardeth could make no move to pick it up. He stared intently at the pained face, hoping beyond hope she wasn't dead. "Mother," Abdu whimpered, dropping down beside the prone woman and cradling her to him. The youth began looking for a wound, a reason his mother would not awaken. His hand found a hole in her stomach that she could not have survived. The same wound that would have killed Evy had Imhotep not intervened.

Ardeth frantically searched for something he could say but words failed him. He couldn't even think of words of hate to curse Ancksunamun with. Abdu rocked with the body of his mother, his grief renewed and doubled. "Mother," he repeated again, touching her face. They stayed that way for long moments.

Ardeth thought about the woman before him, remembering a time when Abdu had run off with a couple of the older warriors. She had been so worried that something would happen to her inexperienced son that Bay had offered to follow and watch after the boy, and had been thanked with freshly made bread later that night. Now she would never worry again.

When Abdu finally did raise his head, Ardeth saw empty minded rage in him—quiet and brought to its boiling point and directed at him. The youth rested his mother against the floor and reached for the scimitar, hissing through clenched teeth, "For the sake of that western whore's bastard child my mother lays dead! What is she to you?" The sound of the blade sliding along the concrete prompted Ardeth to back away.

The younger Med-Jai got to his feet and advanced on him with firm intent. There would be no talking this through. Abdu was too upset. "Some compassion, Ardeth," he growled, raising the scimitar. "Your pride is killing everyone and still you will not humble yourself to her. Perhaps if I take her plaything away she will move on."

"Abdu," Ardeth breathed, narrowly escaping a slash. He backed around the sarcophagus of Set, keenly watching the boy.

The youth wouldn't answer when Ardeth repeated his name, except to thrust the scimitar at his former friend once more. The older Med-Jai jumped away, but Abdu's quick hand brought the sword to his other side almost instantly. The blade cut into Ardeth's arm, winning a gasp of pain.

"Where is your control?" he asked, dodging another blow and kicking the scimitar from Abdu's hand. It hit the floor with a clang.

The younger wiggled his aching fingers, then threw himself into Bay, slamming him into the wall. Ardeth groaned and tried to refrain himself, but he knew it would be impossible short of death. Abdu balled his fist and threw a punch into his elder's face. "My control died with them!"

One more hit to the jaw caused Ardeth to fight back. Abdu was going to have to be knocked out, if he could help it. He looked for a window of opportunity. Abdu was blinded with anger and that was Ardeth's chief advantage. He entered the open and lured the boy closer. When Abdu jumped to attack again,A Ardeth caught him and yanked him towards the wall.

Anger also provided strength, however, and as Ardeth tried to push him into the wall, Abdu caught him off balance and tripped him. The older collapsed to the floor and got the wind knocked out of him. Abdu was on him before he could recover, pouring his rage into punching the Med-Jai beneath him. Ardeth groaned and raised his hands to block the blows as best he could. 

"You weak bastard," Abdu reviled him through a shaking voice. Bay felt tears splash against his hands and each one went straight to the heart. Instead of fighting he decided another approach. He opened his arms to embrace the younger Med-Jai, praying he could let his grief out and stop this madness. But Abdu wouldn't allow it. Slapping those caring arms away, he hissed, _"Don't touch me!"_ Now unable to stop his emotions from surfacing, he climbed off his target and wiped at his wetting cheeks. Ardeth sat up and waited anxiously.

The youth took in a shuddering breath and again looked down at his mother, whispering, "She would be so ashamed of me right now. I can't do this. I can't let the priestess do this to me." His eyes slid to the scimitar.

Ardeth held his breath, watching Abdu look at the weapon. He guessed the fight was over, but the weapon was even more dangerous now. Quietly and slowly he worked into a crouching position, but Abdu noticed and understood. They both went for the blade.

The elder grasped the scimitar and the boy yelled out angrily, still very willing to fight his friend for what he wanted. Ardeth backed away with it, holding it away from Abdu, and the boy followed like a predator with resolved eyes. He kicked out at Ardeth's stomach and in pain, he slumped into a wall, lowering the scimitar momentarily. It was enough.

Ardeth gripped the scimitar tightly so Abdu couldn't take it and started to raise it away again, but he was too slow and not strong enough in his current state. Abdu ripped his hand down and gripping his shoulder, forced the weapon forward. His eyes widened when he let go. "Abdu!" Bay gasped as the younger started to fall. He dropped the scimitar, but it didn't hit the floor. Ardeth pulled Abdu into his arms and opened his robe, seeing where the blade protruded. Blood poured onto his hand.

The boy's eyes rolled back and he went limp in Ardeth's arms. The older Med-Jai lowered him to the floor and laid him out. He grasped Abdu's robe, feeling emptiness again well up inside of him. Only this time it was far deeper than before. This young man had a future. He couldn't be dead. "Abdu," he whispered, shaking him gently. Abdu didn't answer or even move. He was gone.

The silence of the room seemed somehow very loud to Ardeth's ears as he sat there on his knees, looking down at the body of the other Med-Jai. Salty, stinging tears formed in his tired eyes, racing over the brim of his lids and down his cheeks. He couldn't speak, couldn't think. This loss hit him like a physical blow straight to the heart. The promise of Abdu's future was gone and that fact washed over Ardeth like a hot flood. He felt very sick just now.

Slowly and defeatedly, the lone Med-Jai stood up, his every movement echoing through the dim chamber. The scimitar was still tantalizingly close, but he found no strength to follow the suggestion of his thoughts. Ardeth wrapped his arms around himself and turned his back on the dead boy on the floor. His body ached, his arm stung and his heart felt ravaged and torn.

But more painfully, he felt hope slip away, just beyond his reach.

*

Ancksunamun stood at the entrance to the Temple of Set, watching up through the cavern as sky became dark. She thought of the Med-Jai she had visited today, wearing the illusion of Lashami's face. It had been quite easy to seek out Abdu's mother and lure her into the desert alone. The Med-Jai were far too trusting of the world around them.

Not for the first time Ancksunamun wondered if she had gone too far. Abdu was angry with his hero, but was he angry enough to hurt him? And what if he grew too enthusiastic and killed him? This was a very dangerous game she played, but if worked right it could help her vastly in her designs. To have one of his own turn so far against him would be a powerful blow, not to mention watching Abdu become hers. The youth was very pliable and would turn far sooner than his elder.

The day completed its cycle into night and the priestess of Set breathed out, letting the calmness of the cool air soothe her tensions. It had been nearly one half of an hour since she had shown them some of the extent of her evil. Would one of them be dead by now? Ancksunamun decided it was time to find out.

Bending down, she removed her shoes and padded softly into the opening chamber. She set them down upon a fountain in the center of the room and looked around. The air seemed charged, pleased with her and some unseen consequence of what she had done. It made her curious to know what had happened below.

The stone doorway in the floor met her vision soon. Ancksunamun knelt down and took the amulet of Imhotep from her pocket to unlock it. She didn't want to disturb whatever was happening, so she opened only one of the stone tablets—slowly. Then she descended on silent feet.

He was alone now, his back to the entrance and his shoulders shaking slightly. Ancksunamun paused there at the foot of the stairs and looked around. Abdu lay dead on one side of the room, run through with his own scimitar. Had Ardeth done this? The moment became dangerous, for he could very well attack her next. Yet she had to make her move now while he was still vulnerable.

She came quietly, watching him tremble as he grieved. Had she gone far enough? She rested her hand against his strong back and he didn't pull away. Ancksunamun began rubbing. "Ardeth, face me," she prompted gently, knowing any triumph or harshness would drive him against her. The game was at a critical and precarious stage right now.

Ardeth obeyed, turning to her with wide, wounded eyes that begged to know how she could do this. They were luminous and beautiful and hurt beyond measure. But there was no will for vengeance. Simply shock and the question. She had gone beyond far enough. His heart was broken. She stepped into him, pulling his warmth into her as she soothed him, not out of manipulation, but of a desire to calm the storm. He rested against her willingly and Ancksunamun gazed over his shoulder, but those dark eyes were burned into her vision and into her heart. 

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, seeking any source of comfort from this pain—even a bad one. She had won. He would be hers for whatever she would have him for.

Ancksunamun nuzzled against his neck and breathed in his warm scent, feeling almost intoxicated by the closeness they were sharing now. She moved her lips to his ear and whispered, "Do you want the pain to end, my love?" She expected him to shove her away at that point, but his strength of will failed him. Ancksunamun turned her face to his.

Ardeth nodded, looking into her eyes with another question written in his, but not spoken. A plea for mercy, that she would end this for him perhaps, or that she would simply leave him be. Now he truly knew he could not fight his way out of this.

Ancksunamun cradled her arm around his neck and took first his mouth, seeking hungrily to open and offering a way out of the despair. She wouldn't let him go. She would _never_ let him go.

He gave himself over to her advances easily. Tears came as he began to allow her to defeat him thoroughly. It was a small effort for her to push his arms down so she could get at his shirt. She kissed his neck, quickly undoing the black buttons, and moved down as more of his flesh was bared. He stood still as she parted the fabric and gazed up. Those eyes looked so lost.

She again went for those lips, hot and soft as she breathed her kiss into him, and he closed his eyes, slowly returning it. Ancksunamun smiled against his mouth and pulled the shirt down his well-muscled arms, stopping at the elbows to kiss him again. She brushed her fingers across his chest, exploring and enjoying him quite thoroughly, letting each touch burn within her as she kept him captive. Ardeth panted gratefully when she finally let go and allowed him to breathe.

Ancksunamun looked his upper body over, feeling her skin flush in want of it. She swallowed hard and pulled the shirt from him, letting it drop to the floor. He was scarred and bruised, but beautiful—gorgeous and hers. Red caught her vision. His arm was cut and bleeding. The priestess grabbed his wrist and turned his arm to view the damage. "You're hurt, my Ardeth," she said gently, wiping at the warm trails of blood leading down his bicep.

Ardeth bowed his head and looked down into her face, still seeking escape from the hurt inside. He brought his hand up, resting it over hers and breathed, "It's all right. I'm all right." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

"I'm so sorry," Ancksunamun told him, meaning it. She was sorry for the anguish he felt, but what had to be done, had to be. He would be rewarded greatly for long nights to come for his suffering. He was destroyed and she would make him new. The priestess trailed his shoulder with her mouth, savoring the taste of his skin as she resumed taking him. 

He was tense, but soft, his body hot to her increasingly insistent touch. "Let me love you," she whispered, unable to get enough of his searing mouth and shoulders. She loved touching him, loved the constant contact. She loved feeling him give in to his own desire. 

Ardeth furrowed his brow, groaning lightly into her lips as she brushed her fingers down his strong stomach and over the rim of the black pants he wore. Ancksunamun rubbed her cheek against his, resting her head and trembling at the sounds of his now ragged breathing as she undid the last button and unzipped them. Her hand opened the clothing and snaked inside, seeking the flesh of his hip. He shivered and took a tentative step back, but she stopped him, wrapping her free arm around his waist, effortlessly caging his vulnerability to her desire.

"You're afraid to do this," she observed, rubbing his hip and side delicately, enjoying the feel of his velvety skin. Ardeth looked away from her and glanced at the body of Abdu. She watched the grief resurface and her hold tightened. "Look at me, Ardeth," she commanded and he hesitantly obeyed. "You're in pain. Let go. Let me _love_ you."

Ancksunamun inhaled deeply when he looked her up and down, then touched his fingers to her chin. The Med-Jai weighed it in his mind, and then made his final choice. Tilting her face up, he leaned into her, wrapping his strong arms around her body and taking her mouth to his. She let herself whimper at the ardent need in that kiss. It reminded her of a time long ago.

Ardeth pulled her down with him, settling on his knees and then yanking her back into his arms as his hands demanded peace from her body and lips. Her throat was immediately assaulted with a hot intent to mark. Ancksunamun ran her fingers through his long hair, closing her eyes and burning each and every husky whisper into her memory. He was letting himself get lost in this intimacy, letting himself enjoy each taste, scent and sensation she gave. The beauty of his surrender made her smile over his shoulder.

"Ardeth," she whispered urgently, letting herself get lost in him as he pushed her back to the floor. When he pulled open the Med-Jai robe she wore and warmed himself inside it, she knew she owned him. 

*

**Lula** – Hehehe..well, I thought Immy should be retaining some of his old world charm. ;) You want more Ardeth? Here it is. :O I know I put him through so much…oye. Anyway, thanks for the read and review!

**Deana** - ;D Funny, eh? I was serious! ;) Anyway, thanks for reading before and letting me know what you think. And thanks for the reviews!

**Marcher** – I'm glad I keep you guessing! I try to throw in those plot twists and heart wrenching whammys and so on. ;) Thanks…I'm glad you're enjoying this! Ardeth is quite over his head…hope he makes it out alive. ;)

Everyone else, hope you enjoyed this chapter and will stick around for more! :D Thanks -Angela


	14. Losing Loved Ones

Title: Passion - Chapter Thirteen – Losing Loved Ones

Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

The morning was growing brighter, Evy noticed with a scornful sigh. They had ridden all night so their 'friends' could escape the watchful eyes of the Med-Jai. Leaned against Imhotep's warm back, Evy rubbed her cheek against his shoulder and yawned. The first stop would be to see Rick, then Jonathan if he weren't there, but what she was really looking forward to was sinking down upon a soft bed.

As they reached the beginnings of Cairo, Evy could see people starting their day. This was about the time she would have been getting ready for work at the museum, had life not changed drastically with the first resurrection of Imhotep. Sometimes she wondered if she would have found someone else by now, had her path not changed. Absently, she kissed her priest's shoulder and he tickled his fingers up her arm around his waist. "I must look a sight," she complained, thinking about their rough journey. Not to mention she was half starved! Their companions had offered them a sustaining dinner last night, but she wanted something more substantial.

It occurred to her that Ardeth was probably in worse condition, knowing Ancksunamun. Evelyn let out a sigh at the pang in her heart, thinking, _You aren't going to do this. Not yet!_ She had promised Imhotep she would make a good effort to lower her stress. "You always look a sight," Imhotep answered solidly, scratching his arm and nudging the horse a little faster.

Evelyn scowled and pinched his side, causing him to jerk a little. "I meant that in worship of you, my princess," he assured her, but with him one could never tell. She poked him and he exhaled sharply.

They traveled on through the waking city until the hospital came in view, and she realized she hadn't even told these men their destination. Yet the elder stopped his horse right in front of the building. "Here we are, Miss Carnahan," he said, both men dismounting. The younger of the two men approached and helped her down.

"Thank you," she replied, straightening her dress and looking to Imhotep as he joined her. He appeared to consider the men before them, but coming from a royal background, seemed to take their service in stride instead of questioning it. These things were owed a high priest. She wasn't so ready to trust them, though. "You'll want compensation for your trouble, of course," she said loftily.

The older man laughed and shook his head, extending a grimy hand to shake hers. She took it reluctantly and gave him a wan smile. "No, Miss. We're told Mr. O'Connell's going to handle compensation. No need to trouble yourself. Drake would skewer my…" he looked her over, remembering it was a proper lady he was talking to, and finished lamely "…parts off. Anyway, I'm sure our boss'll settle up."

Evy widened her eyes in realization. "You're from that crime lord?" She bit her fingernail. Her mind started turning wheels. "I should have known. Look, if I wanted to hire you for more…_work_, how would I go about making such an arrangement?"

Shrugging, the leader, glanced towards the hospital and answered, "I'm sure O'Connell knows how to get Drake's attention. All our jobs come from him."

Stepping aside to let the man reclaim his horse, Evy thanked him again and took Imhotep's hand as they began away. "Those men came from the criminal, Imhotep. Maybe they could help Ardeth."

Imhotep glanced after them, then looked her over gravely. "Coming from the source, I will understand if you are somewhat dubious of my reply, but I do not trust common criminals. They act without honor."

"You're right, Imhotep," she breathed, offering him a kiss on the hand as she pulled him towards the entrance to the hospital. He opened the door for her with a pleased smile, and she grinned. "I am dubious." Imhotep's lips curled into a frown.

The reception area was still lit demurely, offering possible morning patients the prospect of not straining their eyes in bright whiteness. A lady at the desk looked up at the two travel-weary newcomers and began looking for the appropriate forms. Evelyn shook her head. "We're here to see Mr. O'Connell. Is he here?"

At mention of Rick's name the lady's face went dark and cold. "Mr. O'Connell isn't here," she retorted curtly, making Evy wonder what in the devil had gotten into this woman.

Narrowing her brow and putting on the most demanding expression she could, Evy crossed her arms and asked, "Well, where is he? I'm sure he hasn't died!"

The receptionist made a show of straightening some papers, then glanced up and shook her head. "I'm sure I wouldn't know, Miss. That ragamuffin called 'Carnahan' that's been hanging around spirited him away last night, stealing a wheelchair and two boxes of gauze—probably so Mr. O'Connell won't bleed to death wherever they disappeared to. The hospital administrator is very unhappy with them."

Evy groaned, putting a hand to her forehead. "Oh good lord. My brother," she murmured, turning to Imhotep and switching to the ancient tongue. "They've gone. No clue where."

True to his nature, Imhotep's face grew dark and pensive and irritated. Now that he could talk she was fairly certain that at least Jonathan would be treated to his share of stinging words. He said nothing, however, merely took her wrist and pulled her with him out the dark, wooden entrance doors. He was very moody just now and Rick and Jonathan had just inadvertently made things worse. "We'll find them," she breathed, following as he headed towards the hotel across the street.

"No, Nefertiri, _I_ will find them!" Imhotep told her hotly, brushing open the doors as grand as any peeved king would. He turned around with hard eyes and pointed at her. "And when I do I will beat them both senseless for this lunacy!"

"Don't you point at me!" Evy shouted, slapping his hand away. All went quiet in the lobby and she blushed, remembering herself. Straightening her sleeves, she marched past him to the front desk and asked if they're rooms were still occupied. Rick and Jonathan's were vacant, but she and Imhotep's had been paid up for the week. Evy took the key being offered and swept up the stairs, leaving Imhotep to struggle in pursuit.

When they got to the room and entered Imhotep slammed the door behind him and retreated to the window to brood. Evelyn stationed herself at the mirror, rubbing her butterfly filled stomach and trying not to shake. This was the last thing she needed right now. She needed at least _one_ stable person to keep sanity around here. _Of course Rick and Jonathan can never be counted upon, _she thought bitterly, raking her hair with her much missed brush.

She looked down at her still flat stomach, thinking how she knew very little about children. _My God, I'm having a baby_, she realized again. It occurred to her every few hours or so that it wasn't just some story Ancksunamun had made up. She literally felt tired all the time now. Rick was going to explode when he found out. And what would Jonathan think? She wasn't even married.

Evy glared at Imhotep's reflection in the mirror, tempted to believe that was a good thing. But it didn't stick. She supposed he had every right to be angry, as her…lover and the father of her child. Which brought something else to mind. "Imhotep? Have you ever been a father?" she asked him suddenly, wondering what he would be like in such a role.

The priest turned and regarded her for a moment, then turned back to the window, muttering, "No." He exhaled impatiently and refused to add to that. Evy was half tempted to hurl her brush at him.

But anger gave way to tears, unfortunately, and she cursed herself for not being able to control herself better. But she was so tired. Wiping at her face and trying to muffle a sniffle, she wandered to the bed and sat down quietly. Evy didn't quite hear as much as feel his presence come closer. She turned away when he knelt before her, but he made her face him. "I am so sorry, Nefertiri. I did not mean to upset you so. May the gods shield you from ever believing I am the monster I was."

"I know you're not," she told him, crossing her arms to avoid contact—even if that's what she needed most. She wiped her face again. "People fight. It doesn't make them evil."

He looked down into her lap and drew her fingers into his vision, speaking softly now. "I do not mean to disrespect you, princess. I realize the women of this time are accustomed to behaving as men, but Nefertiri, it frustrates me to no end that you will not let me protect you!" He hit the unoffending bed with his fight lightly, venting some of his anger.

She glared down, tempted to remark testily, but couldn't help it. His expression and words made her giggle, despite prideful attempts to stifle it and remain highly miffed. His brow narrowed and she smirked, nudging his shoulder with her knee. "You big jerk," she said with a sigh. She could feel those tears starting up again, and Imhotep could sense that. His own irritations forgotten, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pillowed his head against her belly. Evy sniffled, beginning to trace his shoulders, and said in a trembling voice, "I'm losing everyone I love." His arms tightened around her.

*

The floor was chilly against her side. Ancksunamun lay beside her sleeping slave, reveling in the quiet time she had to watch him and pet him. They lay on her open robe, but even still it was not enough. Ardeth stirred in his sleep, looking troubled and handsome. He would not survive here without sustenance other than these walls and whatever food she could bring. He was going to have to get out of this grievous room. Last night had been a major victory in winning him, so today she felt she could reward him. She would give him back the world.

In earlier hours she had left him behind to tiptoe upstairs and get the water she had taken from the Med-Jai. Ancksunamun had wanted to awaken him then, that she could see how he would react to the knowledge of last night now that his head was clear, but she had let him sleep. He was mortal still. In the future that would not be the case, for she herself was now immortal with the power of Set. She intended to keep him through all the ages of this world.

For now, however, she wanted to enjoy this. He was beautiful in his mortality, in his sleep. After she changed him he would never need sleep again. But she would take advantage of the time she had left. Ancksunamun brought the water bottle to her fingers and poured some of the cold liquid, then brushed them against his lips. She smiled when he stirred.

"Ardeth," she whispered softly, brushing his hair back almost lovingly. He was so very beautiful. "My love?" Ardeth breathed out and brushed against her fingers as she tempted him awake once more.

His hand came up and gripped her wrist gently, pulling her distraction away so he could continue to rest, but she wouldn't let up. The priestess brought her mouth to his and offered a warmer tease. "Are you thirsty?" she asked and he tiredly nodded, now looking up through heavy-lidded eyes. His expression was neutral, neither hateful nor angered or even accepting. Apathetic almost. And rightly so, she supposed. He had been through much yesterday, his emotions likely darting from one to another until finally his grief overtook him.

She brought the container to his lips and gave him water, watching his face as he drank gratefully. A small trail of the coolness began caressing the side of his mouth and now thirsty herself, Ancksunamun bent down to kiss it away. It surprised her when he shoved the bottle from her hand and pulled her closer, asking more. "So soon, my love?" she breathed, pushing her hair back and regarding him. "I understand last night, but are you truly ready to give yourself to me?"

At that Ardeth sat up, looking down at the robe they sat on. He was trying to hard not to hurt, she could see, trying not to surface his anger. "I can't go back. I can't be who I was before. To care is to die." He whispered the last and looked up with questioning brown eyes that made her swallow. "Are you done with me now that I have given all? Will you set me aside?"

Putting her fingers to his lips and pulling him into her arms, she whispered, "Never, Ardeth. I will never let you go." He looked neither relieved nor upset at that answer, but responded to her closeness with a kiss. Ancksunamun strayed her hand to his still open pants to find his hip again. "What do you want?"

"I want to hurt them," he replied in such a low, deathly tone she thought she heard wrong. But his emotionless, cold eyes suggested she hadn't as he started caressing her bare thigh. It was a heartless touch. "I want to hurt those who hurt me. Those who helped you make me what I am becoming."

Ancksunamun looked his face over and considered his hard tones. To care might be to die, but that wasn't stopping him—not as much as he wanted it to. Crossing her arms coolly, she said, "And what are you becoming?"

His hand stopped rubbing and the caress turned into a rough squeeze. His grim smile was real this time, not faked for the sake of Nefertiri and her priest. "Don't you know? I'm becoming a monster, Ancksunamun." Ardeth let up on her leg and she looked down, seeing red marks. Before she could speak he had her in his arms, that painful intent again soft and seeking.

"And why does it make you angry?" she breathed, closing her eyes as he nuzzled her throat and inhaled.

He brought his face up to hers and gave her lips a quick swipe. "Because it's wrong."

Ancksunamun laughed at that, touching his face and stalling his passion. "If it is wrong why do you change at all?" she asked, feeling the need to find out what was going on in that mind of his. It was almost unsettling to see him this way, almost too much to hope for.

At that Ardeth pushed her away, his pretty eyes downcast and hurt. "All of my life," he began softly, absently picking at the robe beneath him, "I've been the hero. I've sacrificed much for the sake of what is right. Look at my reward. It doesn't matter anymore, Ancksunamun. I cannot stop it. I don't have that kind of strength."

He looked at her through piercing eyes. "Do you understand? I needed my people and they turned their backs on me! I needed Evelyn and Imhotep to rescue me from you, but they left me to die here! I know that is what I wanted, but in my selfishness I cannot stop the anger and betrayal I feel!" His expression made her look away, but he continued in low tones. "How could they leave me to this ruin? Have I done nothing for them? I…I hate them."

Bowing his head, Ardeth clenched his hands and struggled with the feelings surging through his being. She wasn't sure whether to mourn for him or celebrate his lack of faith. Ancksunamun decided to do both. Reaching for him, her hand met his silken hair and brushed it away from his face. He was making excellent progress. It still troubled him that he was changing, but that was expected. What counted was that he knew he could not stop it.

"My poor, tired Ardeth," she said, drawing near so she could touch him. That cut on his arm caught her eyes again. "We must leave this place today, lover. I have other things I wish to attend to."

"Killing Evelyn?" he asked neutrally.

Ancksunamun laid a kiss on his wounded arm and shook her head. "That I will leave to you, since she hurt you. If you wish it, anyway. I want the seals and I want the Books."

Bay looked up and impulsively curled a hanging strand of her dark hair around his finger. "I assume my people have knowledge of where they are, but I wonder why you want the Books. It was my idea they weren't required to raise Set."

"They aren't," she replied, kissing the finger that touched her hair. He was so different than Akhenre. Something she had more desire to possess. The way Ardeth looked at her now—a mixture of both lust and hate—made her shiver in want. "With the Book of the Dead I will resurrect you as an immortal. For as long as I live upon this earth I will own you, my Ardeth. In this form you will not live for as long as I shall. Therefore I must change you."

He looked suitably uncomfortable at that. "Will you have to curse me?"

She shook her head. "No. The spell will not curse you, love. Just change you. Bind your soul to the earth. After that only the Book of Amun Ra can kill you. It sounds like what Imhotep suffers, but you will not be a walking plague." Her slave looked away, apprehension still behind his eyes. It was a frightening thing, being changed into something you don't identify with. But she would be here for him. Ancksunamun took his cheek and drew him close to her, sending a hand into his pants to rub his hipbone. "Will you do it, lover? Will you take the Books from them?" She smiled when he tensed under her caress.

Ardeth laid back and pulled her onto him, nodding in acquiescence as he embraced her body to his. Large, hot hands traced her nudity, making her shiver in anticipation of the storm to come. "I will do what you ask, Ancksunamun," he breathed into her, then tasted the inside of her mouth in a demanding way that threatened her air supply. When he let go the smile on his face was playful and dark. She realized that broken to her obedience or not, he was going to be a hand full even still when he rolled onto her and touched her face. "And you," he whispered huskily, teasing her lips by hovering inches away from them with smoldering, desire-filled eyes as he touched her. "You will give me all _I_ ask."

At that she laughed, pushing his shoulders away. "Oh, I will?"

The Med-Jai laughed lightly, drawing her arms above her head and pinning them back. Ancksunamun swallowed when he trailed the inside of her arm with kisses. "You asked for this. You made me this." His eyes locked with hers, grave and firm. She knew he meant it, but couldn't decide how when he added, "You will pay for it." She gave up on figuring it out when his mouth dove over hers again.

*

**Marcher** - *chuckle* I couldn't help it…besides, Ardeth could use a moment to relax. ;) Thanks!

**Hadassaknamu** – Hehehe…thankya! Here's some more Evy/Immy stuffs…:-O Hope you enjoy!

**Lula** – Thanks for the review! It's a "use your imagination" type deal, but I did write a more extended love scene for my other story, Speak Softly, which'll be posted sometime in the futureness. But yeah…I try not to write people as TOTALLY evil or totally good. :-D She's just insane enough to hurt him badly to get him to want her.

**Deana** – Yeah, our poor guy's given up. After so much abuse and forcing him to do bad things, plus ruining Abdu's life, well who could blame him for slipping out of the loop somewhat? *sniffle* Thanks!

Everyone else, hope you don't think I'm too evil to Ardeth! Lol ;-) -Angela


	15. For My Child

Title: Passion - Chapter Fourteen – For My Child

Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*  
**_"There was a boy who had the faith to move a mountain and like a child he would believe without a reason. Without a trace he disappeared into the void and I've been searching for that missing person."_**_  
Missing Person, on Live the Life by Michael W. Smith_

Ardeth's clothing whipped in the wind and sand threatened his vision as he stalked towards the Med-Jai encampment. Abdu's turban he had taken out of necessity, but he wouldn't demean the boy's robe by wearing it. It didn't really matter what his people thought of the western clothing he wore, anyway. He wasn't a Med-Jai.

His master waited for him at an oasis nearby, conjuring and maintaining the sand storm that brewed around him. He would steal into the camp by cover of the sand and get the information he needed. He wanted this to trouble him greatly, but for some reason it didn't. There was only grim determination locked into his system. He knew what he had to do and he did not fear it. His friends would mourn this, but Ardeth knew he had no choice.

The sands shifted uneasily beneath his feet as if they could feel what was going on inside his heart. The visibility in the distance decreased at a steady rate as more and more earth was thrown into the air. Ardeth drew the cloth hanging from the turban across his face, wrapped his arms around himself and pressed forward, thankful he was close. He wanted this done. 

Nothing would stop him. Ardeth already determined that within himself. This was too important for anything to get in his way, even if that meant hurting people. Still, he was assaulted by memories when he slipped past the general guard easily and crossed into the camp.

The first place he would go would be Omar's tent. Of all the Med-Jai, this one man understood Ardeth the most—was like a father to him, and was therefore most likely to give him what he required. The tent wasn't far from where his own stood, waiting for his return. Ardeth paused and was tempted to go inside it, but shied away. It would drag him away from his purpose. He continued on, knowing he would never walk upon this ground again.

Holding his clothing tightly, Ardeth bent close to the entrance of Omar's tent and called for his old friend. The response was not instant, but when it came it slammed Ardeth with a dozen emotions that made his stomach ache. "Who comes to my tent during this?" Omar's voice echoed out, muffled by the winds. The tent flap opened, offering the ex-Med-Jai entrance. He entered and stood up fully, removing the cloth from his face. Omar gave no indication that he was surprised as he looked the younger over and grunted. "Only one of the Bays would be crazy enough to wander about in a storm. Come over here."

Ardeth found himself shaking when Omar embraced him. This man had been his father's friend…a brother almost and as such, had helped a small amount in his raising. He suddenly wanted to confess everything, every evil intention and everything he had allowed to be done to him, and ask this man to forgive him, but he couldn't speak. The task before him kept him silent.

Omar didn't miss the dark atmosphere around his young friend. He pulled back and gripped him by the shoulder, asking, "What's wrong, Ardeth?" But no reply could be given. The elder took a breath and sat down on his bunk, his face reflective and pained. "Insitara would be so angry with me if she knew how I had failed you. I could never be Ardan. I could never be what was needed. Not to them and not to you."

Flinching at the use of his parents' names, Ardeth looked down before reluctantly taking a chair and allowing himself to sit. Ancksunamun owned him already, so she could afford to wait. "I'm all right," he lied bluntly, knowing guilt and not wanting to share that feeling with anyone.

A crooked smile spread across Omar's lips as he regarded Ardeth. He brushed his graying hair back and nodded. "Are you? That's why you have been gone from us for a month's time, tending your wounds in England instead of here." He sighed at Ardeth's narrowed brows. "I should have come to you there. I should have gone anywhere to be with you, to make sure you were all right. But I didn't overstep my bounds as Insitara made me swear I would never do."

They had a close relationship, but the failure in that voice caused Ardeth some confusion. He shook his head. "That was not your responsibility, Omar. I am a man, not some child. I…"

The tent flap opened and a small woman swept inside. Omar's wife. She threw her scarf back and smiled upon seeing their guest, making him clench his fist in irritation. He didn't need this, didn't need to be distracted. "Ardeth, you return to us?"

Before Ardeth could reply Omar held up his hand, his eyes very grave. "Selimah, please…" he said softly and that alone seemed to convey some sort of message that the younger wasn't privy to. She looked down at him suddenly with assuring eyes. He forgot about Ancksunamun and started wondering what was wrong with these two. Had the Med-Jai told them something, some threat against him if he returned? "I would not send you back into a storm," Omar continued, "but if you could return to Jaheda for a little bit, while I explain some things to Ardeth, I would be grateful."

Selimah nodded quickly and left them. Immediately Ardeth looked to Omar, his eyes demanding to know what was being unsaid. The elder exhaled and looked him over again. "Ardeth, it grieves me more than you could possibly know to see you hurting like this. I don't know where your life has taken you this past month, but I missed you greatly. Abdu misses you."

At that the younger was on his feet, ready to seek another way to find the Books and seals. He couldn't bear this talk of people gone forever. "I must go," he curtly informed the other, then turned away.

"If you must," Omar answered sternly. Then after a moment his voice softened and grew wistful. "Son."

That couldn't be ignored. The ex-Med-Jai whipped around with flashing eyes and snapped, "What did you call me?" His pulse raced at that, his mind wondering how this man could say such a thing, could dare try and use such a word to keep him here, knowing how much he missed his father.

The elder's face was hard as he stood up and waved his hand. "You heard what I said. Now go. Run away from this as you've run away from everything else. Run away from me as I've run away from you."

"How dare you create such a lie!" Ardeth yelled, fear rising up through his veins at this man's words. "What are you insinuating, Omar? That I belong to you and Selimah?" He had no brothers or sisters and that fact rushed over him, sending torrents of nervous energy through his body. It was conceivable his parents had adopted him from Omar's lineage, but what would that mean? It would turn his already wrecked world upside down again, not to mention what it would mean to Omar once he had completed his task.

Omar sat back down and ran his hand through his hair, looking almost as unnerved as Ardeth himself felt. "No," he breathed, looking anywhere but into the other's face. "Insitara was a beautiful woman, Ardeth," he began and the younger shook his head at what that likely meant. "I know the others hurt you and I know it seems like my secret was kept in shame, but I've _always_ been proud of you, my son."

"No," Ardeth breathed, pacing back and forth, not wanting this right now. He had too much to deal with already. This story was unreal, too shocking to believe. "This is a trick of Ancksunamun. This…this isn't real." If she were playing with these emotions he would have no trouble in venting his displeasure in physical ways. Not now, not after she had invited him into darkness.

"Ancksunamun?" the elder asked in puzzled, wary tones. "What do you mean?"

He had slipped. Ardeth looked down at this man that was claiming to be his father and shook his head with a raised hand. "So, my mother is Insitara Bay?" he diverted, knowing he could not afford to speak any more of what was going on outside of this revelation. "And she…" His mother had had an affair on his father, Ardan Bay, the man whose very name Ardeth's came from? He thought of how she looked at her husband and couldn't believe it.

Omar bowed his head, his guilt displayed plainly before his son. "We loved each other very deeply, but in came Ardan from his station in Cairo one summer, galloping on his damn horse like something out of a motion picture." There was sarcasm there, jealousy being relived, but the older man gave it up. "I don't blame her for her love of him. He was a very good man, but when she left me after our final fight it broke my heart. They were married and I was alone. But despite our past love Ardan accepted me as a friend, a brother. We three became close knit."

"And if you loved my father so much, how is it that you took his wife?" Ardeth retorted, trying to harden his heart to this. It didn't matter. It was of the past.

He looked up with moist eyes, watching Ardeth stand still before a picture of he and Selimah. "He had been captured by raiders one time and taken away as a slave for nearly a year with a few other Med-Jai hostages. In her anguish of losing her new husband and I my best friend, we looked to each other for comfort, secretly where no eyes would find us. Not long after our union she found she was pregnant. We panicked, thought to run away from the Med-Jai," he said this with a snort, "but fortunately for her and you, Ardan and the others were liberated. He came back in time to make it appear to most eyes that you were his."

"Who else knows of this?" Bay asked in low, uncertain tones as he wondered how much more would be added to the weight on his shoulders. His mind flitted back to Ancksunamun, images of her possessing eyes and whispers of her distracting caress coming back to him, promising to take away his disquiet. She would begin to wonder where he was if he did not hurry.

Omar stood up and came to Ardeth's side, touching his arm almost imploringly. "A few on the council. Selimah. No one else, not even my daughters." Ardeth sighed when Omar turned him to face this. His arms were open, asking for his son to accept this forgery of reality. "Ardan forgave us of that, one of the most grievous things either one of us could have done to him. I only pray that someday you forgive us as well."

Frustration and anger welled up inside Ardeth at having this thrust into his lap now. He backed away from those arms and frowned at the memory of Abdu refusing him. "Why do you choose this day to bring this before me?" he asked, more out of irony than wanting to know, but his _father_ gave him a reply.

"I bring this to you at the worst possible time in your life, boy, but only because I think you need me and…I need you to come back home."

That shook Ardeth from head to toe, making him resent this life for doing this to him all at once. They were all asking at the same time that he be something different to each them and he couldn't obey every command and please Omar, Evelyn and Imhotep and keep Ancksunamun from doing more damage. He didn't have the strength to be all these things. His choices were made. "Where are the Books?" Ardeth demanded, knowing his time grew short.

"The Books?" Omar repeated, obviously wounded by Ardeth's continued refusal to at least be civil. "Ardeth, have you not heard a word of what I have told you?"

He reached for the younger man's arm, but Bay jerked away with a glare. "You tell me this story minutes after I return and you want me to accept it at face value and…and call you my father? You say you have always been proud, and yet you tell no one, least of all _me,_ that I do not belong to the man I have loved all of my life? Prove your pride. Trust me and tell me where the Books are." There was some manipulation thrown into those statements, but they were no less true. Life betrayed him at every step.

The old Med-Jai looked away quietly and for a moment Ardeth tensed, fearing he would keep the knowledge and force him to find other means. He scanned the tent for something use, but at the last moment Omar spoke. "Rasheyd has the Book of the Dead. Ali keeps the Book of Amun Ra in Cairo."

"And the Seals of Horus?"

"Destroyed."

Ardeth searched for any hint of deception in his old friend's eyes and found none. Ancksunamun was going to be livid. Without offering his father any parting words, Ardeth turned away and left the tent, pausing only momentarily before letting his task move him on. He couldn't afford to let himself get sunk into a pit of emotion over this. Not right now.

So Ardeth pushed it away and concentrated on pleasing Ancksunamun. The tent of Rasheyd was nearer to the center of the camp where the elder could be better protected against any threats befalling the people. It would be dangerous, going there to steal such a dangerous artifact, even if the storm offered him cover. He could only pray that the elder was not in currently in his tent.

As luck would have it, Rasheyd was there when Ardeth barged in, uninvited. He looked up from his chair with stern eyes that widened to surprise with the knowledge of just whom it was that was intruding. "So, you return to your people?" he asked and Ardeth allowed himself to smile at the dislike in that tone. This man did not trust him and if what Omar were claiming was true, perhaps now he could understand a little better why that was.

"Rasheyd," he greeted with a polite bow of his head as he drew his scimitar.

*

Rick set the cards down and watched Jonathan scowl at the winning hand. With a toss of his arms that turned into a stretch, Evy's brother yawned. "I give up. You're going to win me out of house and home."

With a self-satisfied little smirk as he began gathering up the cards to shuffle, the ex-Legionnaire said, "Play you for your sister?"

"No way," Jonathan replied with a little laugh as he scratched behind his neck. "You can have her. Speaking of which, I wonder what's keeping them, anyway."

Rick tossed the deck and stared off at the wall, tapping his heel against the left wheel of his chair. They didn't have Ardeth with them. He hadn't been told anything beyond that the 'dark one' stayed behind. That worried him a great deal. Why hadn't they tried to save him? "I don't know, Jonathan. I don't like this—any of this. Something weird is going on. Just be on guard in case Ancksunamun is still part of Evy, okay?"

With a sigh the Englishman nodded and looked around Drake's office. Spotting what his eyes had set out for Jonathan got up, went to the bottle on the master thief's desk and took a swig without feeling the need for a cup. Rick grunted, agreeing. He could use something himself. Though he didn't like to consider it, Rick knew there was a distinct possibility that Evy hadn't rescued Ardeth because perhaps there was no need. Perhaps he had been killed. The thought of that left cold stirrings in Rick's spirit. Ardeth and Jonathan were his best friends, aside from Evy—who was different to him despite Imhotep. A little guilt came with the momentary thought that it should have been the priest left behind.

It felt really very good, being out of that hospital. Though confined to his wheelchair because of his healing side, Rick still felt a little more in control of things being here at the old hideout instead of laid up in a bed with doctors poking at him. News didn't have to wait for the convenience of some thief. He was here with Drake getting everything right away. He got word when they found Evelyn and returned her to Cairo, and had been here to know the exact moment Drake had sent his men to stop the Med-Jai from hurting anyone special to him.

Rick sighed. It was a false illusion of handling these things he wanted to fix, but better at least. It got that much better when the door to the office opened and Evy appeared, followed by her priest. "Hey," he greeted with a smart expression, eyeballing them both. "I see Imwhoretep made it out alive, unfortunately. Where's Ardeth?"

Instead of giving him an irritated little smirk, Evy stalked towards him and immediately attacked his shoulder with her handbag—several times. "Just what did you think you were doing, scaring me like that? We came back and they said you had gone, with no idea where you were! I thought…well, any number of things crossed my mind. I'm very disappointed in you, running away from the hospital like that!"

O'Connell stared up with wide eyes for a moment, then looked around her to see Jonathan getting the same scolding from the priest. "Okay, okay," he breathed, rubbing his sore shoulder. "I did a bad thing. I'm sorry. What's wrong with you two? Where's Ardeth? Please tell me he went back to the Med-Jai."

"Ardeth stayed with Ancksunamun," Evy answered, looking at him angrily, but he could see it was half-hearted. She was worried about their friend and it was beginning to grow in her eyes. "Oh, Rick, he's still with her suffering only God knows what. But what was I supposed to do? He told us to leave and…and well, I…I have someone to protect now and…oh Rick, he's in danger. She's immortal now! I knew we could come back and send Imhotep and Jonathan back, maybe and the Med-Jai…"

Rick shook his head at that and tried to brush away the panic that was rubbing off from her to him. "No Med-Jai. I'm not sure I trust them. They know about what happened to you and Ardeth and I think they're willing to stop Ancksunamun at any cost, if you get me. Evy, it's okay. Look, I know you were scared and it's okay that you came back. I'm happy you did, but I have a selfish question. Why couldn't _Imhotep_ stay and help Ardeth?"

She looked very uncomfortable at that. Jonathan came away from the priest and hugged his sister before she could speak. "My good Lord, Evy. You need to sit down. Imhotep just told me."

Evelyn shook her head, sitting in a chair her brother got and held for her, looking afraid and weary. He swallowed and remained patient. "He wouldn't have, Rick. If I wasn't his first priority then, I am now. I have something to tell you and you're probably going to hate him…and maybe me."

She didn't have to continue and though tempted to for the sake of petty revenge, Rick wasn't going to make her. He held up his hand to quiet her down and said softly, "I know. I…sorta had this feeling."

"You…knew?" his ex-girlfriend said in a small, surprised voice and he smiled to reassure her he wasn't angry. Well, maybe a little. But not at her.

Jonathan cocked his eyebrow and sat down at Drake's chair. "You knew, old boy? How?"

Rick nodded and rubbed his stomach near the injury absently. "Yep. Well, I suspected, anyway." He shrugged. "As for how, well there's only one answer, plain and simple. Her chest got bigger." Evy narrowed her brows and O'Connell smiled innocently. "I can't help what I notice, Evy. I still look sometimes."

Evy blushed and glanced at Imhotep, who watched them mildly. "It's a good thing he doesn't understand much English. Anyway, he would never have left me unprotected with a baby inside. Oh, Rick, what are we going to do? I don't think she'd kill him…at least I hope not."

"I'll have Drake send some men out," he answered, avoiding the mummy with his eyes and concentrating on the immediate problem. He shook his head. "You say he wanted to stay? 'Cause of Akhenre?"

Her eyes saddened at that. "No, Rick. Ardeth fought him back after Ancksunamun said she wouldn't unbind herself to Set. I'm not sure, but I think Akhenre gave up or something. Anyway, Ardeth said he was giving himself to her to save us…and that the next time we met he would be hers. I know he would never hurt us, Rick, but I _do_ know she would do anything to make him lose hope. I hated leaving him, but Rick…the baby is…I mean how can I not put her first?"

Rick felt jarred at her saying it out loud—the baby. But that was okay. "No, no," he sighed, pointing at the door and turning to Jonathan. "Go get Drake. We've got some work for him." He looked at Evy gently. "The…the baby comes first, Evy. I understand that and if Ardeth knew, he would too." He exhaled tiredly and thought lovely thoughts of morphine as his side ached. Then it occurred to him. He let his eyes hit the moody looking priest.

"What do you mean it's a good thing he doesn't understand _much_ English? How much is that?"

*

Okay…so were you all rolling your eyes at that little twist I came up with??? ;-) hehehe. I dunno what gets into me sometimes…but it did inspire me to write the final scene of the story…even before I've done with all the rest. So, assuming this isn't a dorky thing, expect a little more of Omar. :-)

Anyway,

**Elenhiril** – Seven hours, eh? Yikes! :-O Thanks for reviewing, even though you're busy! :-) 

**Lula** – Mmmm…Ardeth a handful…I like that thought, of him being a bad little Med-Jai. ;-) Yeah, though…I thought I'd throw some heart in there…she had a teensy bit in the last story, so ya know. :-D Thanks, my friend!

**Deana** – I'm gonna make Ardeth turn into the most vile creature to walk this earth! Lol..jk, maybe. ;-) Muahahaha. You know…this gives me an idea…hmm. Thanks for reading before and not going crazy, and for reviewing. :-)

**Freakizimi** – Passion is a sequel to another story I wrote – Fury, in which Evy and Imhotep got together. She hasn't turned her back on anyone, really…but she couldn't save Ardeth cause she's got a baby to worry about…I think she'd be concerned about that first…I mean I know that's a tough call, but I know Imhotep would worry first about the child, then Ardeth…and I assume even if it would be hard, Evy would be the same. Thanks. :-)

**Mommints** – Thanks…I'm glad you thought Ardeth's surrender was nicely done…I wasn't sure. But yeah…I like the idea, personally. ;-) I get so tempted to do horrid things to shock you people. ;-) lol. Your story sounds very interesting, though, as I've said over email and I'll say publicly as well, (go read it if you haven't people!). It's coming very well. :-)

**Marcher** – Mmmm…yes, Evil!Ardeth does sound like a happy happy thing, huh?? ;-) Hmmm….come to the darkside, hottie! He can use the "force" on me any day. ;-) I'm glad you like Immy/Evy…sometimes I think it's getting corny, which tempts me to do something terrible to ruin it and make it more suspenseful. Lol. 

**Hadassaknamu** – I'm not too evil to Ardeth? Darn…I'll have to keep working on that…find something totally horrendous to do to him to make you people want to kill me. ;-) Lol. JK, peerheps. Thanks for reading!

Thanks anyone else reading! Hope you enjoy!


	16. If They Only Saw What Those Eyes Have Se...

Title: Passion - Chapter Fifteen – If They Saw What Those Eyes Have Seen

Rating: PG13 for now   
Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

The elder did not flinch back in fear at the drawn weapon, nor try to defend himself. He wouldn't. A Med-Jai with the skill and season of this man need not fear the call of death. "You come as an enemy, then. As I knew you would." Rasheyd held up a small paper. "I know of the supposed possession you suffer. I know your whore has returned from the dead. So you choose to turn your back on us, then? As we turned our backs on you?"

There was no need for bantering. His words were true and the point inarguable. Ardeth cut right to the chase. "Where is the Book of the Dead?"

"I won't tell you," Rasheyd answered simply, unmoving. "Will you kill me for that? You are nothing like your father."

His fingers clenched around his scimitar as Ardeth let the notion pass through his judgment. It would cut every tie he had left to these people, including Omar's love for him. He took a step forward and only then did Rasheyd display a small amount of alarm within the cool depths of his eyes, but he didn't get up. "I do not wish to kill you, Elder. All I require is the Black Book and after that, to leave. Have some sense and live another day. Ancksunamun is already raised. Imhotep walks the earth. What could we possibly do with the Book?"

Rasheyd crossed his arms and Ardeth watched him keenly, waiting for this man to draw a knife or some other such sudden attack. But Rasheyd wouldn't, Ardeth remembered with a pang. Med-Jai fight openly like men, not in secret like monsters. He was forgetting what it was like to think like a Med-Jai. "We will take care of our mistakes, Bay. If there is indeed nothing you can do with the Book of the Dead, why should I hand it to you? I am no fool. Omar Armanjani has managed to convince the majority of the elders to allow for your absence, claiming we owe you at least that, but I see now my opinion of you was correct. So kill me. Or if you haven't forsaken all of the teachings of our people, then allow me to fight you with dignity. My weapon lies over there." His hand waved as if he expected less of Ardeth than to fight the Med-Jai way.

Ardeth turned his head and saw the scimitar in its appropriate place, sheathed and lain out on a table made specifically for the display of such an object. He lowered his own sword and turned his back on his enemy, heading for the table. The scimitar was no different than his own, but he felt loathe to touch it almost as his fingers curled around it.

A rustle behind caused Ardeth to whip around and Rasheyd, now standing, looked him over in undisguised contempt. "You would think that, wouldn't you?" he spat, waiting for his weapon to be handed to him.

Holding the other's scimitar in his hand, Ardeth slowly came before Rasheyd and lifted it. In a blur of action he attacked and the elder hit the ground, unsuspecting until the last. Ardeth took a breath and tossed the man's weapon onto the sand beside him and looked around the tent. There would be very little time, now.

Feeling like a common thief, Bay rifled through Rasheyd's things, searching drawers and a chest to no avail. It occurred to him as he knelt on the floor and pondered, that Omar could very well have just lured him into a trap. Rasheyd had known of Akhenre, so it was very possible he would walk out of this tent into ten or more Med-Jai. Unease spread through him until he noticed a brown bag tucked in the corner of the tent, unassuming and out of the way. Ardeth got up and grabbed the sack, opening it quickly and searching. Elation spread through him when his eyes met the hard surface of the book. Ancksunamun would be pleased.

He zipped the bag and exited the tent, knowing he could not afford to stay a moment longer. The storm raged on, but for as far as he could see, the way was free and clear of guards. Ardeth drew the cloth around his face again and broke into a run, passing Omar's tent on the way. The older man was out, heading away from his own tent, dressed for the weather and searching. He saw the bag in Ardeth's arms as he approached, then looked up with worry in his eyes. "What have you done, Ardeth?"

"Don't follow me," the ex-Med-Jai replied, brushing past his father and heading towards the desert. He wanted to look back, but didn't allow himself the weakness. He had no father.

Ardeth headed towards the oasis with his ears tuned behind, waiting for any sign that he was being pursued. It wouldn't be long before they decided to try, storm or not. The sand whipped around him, threatening his vision every step of the way, but he knew where to go. He could feel her calling.

When he arrived she was in the center of a clearing with her back to him and he took that opportunity to drop the bag, wrap his arms around hers and draw his scimitar on her. Ancksunamun writhed in his grasp and he tried to ignore the stirrings that brought to him. Leaning close enough to her ear to kiss, Ardeth growled, "Did you tamper with the minds of the Med-Jai, Ancksunamun? Did you force lies from their mouths?"

The priestess stilled in his arms, her breathing coming hard as her surprise subsided. "I did nothing but what you see around you, Ardeth. Whatever you were told did not come from me. Take your arms away from me this instant. I have not lost the will to punish you, no matter what soft things we have done." Her voice was calm, smooth and firm.

He held her close a moment, letting his dark temptations rule him for a moment more. Ardeth brushed the blade of his weapon against her soft skin, then shoved her away. He had wanted those things Omar had told him to be a lie from her, but just couldn't be certain of what to believe. It was possible. Very possible…but how likely?

Ardeth slammed the bag down and paced, offering his master a glare. "There's your book, Ancksunamun. The Book of the Dead. The other is in Cairo and the Seals of Horus are destroyed."

Her dark eyes widened at that last as he had expected. The possibility of raising her demon was gone with those seals and only a priest of Horus could make new ones. "They will suffer for this, Ardeth," she warned him in a dark tone that he knew he could not argue with. Now it was she that paced and he that watched. "I will have to defeat him another way." Her brows narrowed.

Ardeth came before her, surprised to see such an unnerved look clouding her expression. His hands found her shoulders and rubbed gently as he considered their options and what she would do in such a state. "You are powerful. I see not why you need to raise Set to defeat your foes. Who do you wish to defeat?" When her eyes came to his, conniving and weighing, a chill passed through him.

Ancksunamun shared his gaze a moment, then brought her fingers to his lips to trace. "Set, my love." His eyes widened, but she continued. "I wish to defeat Set and take his power. I will become a god."

He pulled her close, staring intently into her thoughtful face. The expression of unbridled, consuming desire for this goal frightened him. "You would not be a god, Ancksunamun. You would a demon far worse than anything this world has seen. Are you so sure you want to commit to something so vile?" Was it even possible?

Her eyes hardened as she shoved him away. "Either you are with me or against me, Ardeth. No more games. If you are with me, you will bring me Imhotep. If you are against me, I will kill you and free you of this before it begins."

"Why do you need Imhotep?" he asked her, unease spreading through him. She could very well be unstoppable if this happened, unstoppable and unthinkably evil. Perhaps she was grasping at straws. Perhaps there was no way to truly do this.

Ancksunamun's lips spread into a smile as she reached for him again, lightly touching his hair and curling a strand around her finger. "Who else can ordain you as a priest of Osiris, love?"

That threw him, stopped him right in his tracks. "What? You…you want me to become a priest? Of _Osiris_?"

She nodded softly, her demeanor very different from what it was, as she looked him over with renewed vision. "My teacher Asenath knew a great many secrets." Her body neared, hot and tempting and he felt his senses weakening to want once more. Ancksunamun's laugh was rich and claiming. "She told me of how the demons of Egypt came to be. How they forged their powers. How they were…mortal. And how a mortal may take those powers. But Set is the source of my magic. I cannot defeat him. But a priest of an enemy god could."

Ardeth looked away, knowing where this was going. She would have him become a priest of Osiris and fight the demon himself. There was no way he could do this…was there? She was asking far more than he had considered she would. Could he give that? "I know nothing of how to defeat Set, Ancksunamun. I know nothing of magic. How is it that your priestess did not try to defeat Set herself, or seduce Imhotep into doing it?"

The priestess sneered at that. "She would never have tried. She was beloved of Set and had all she needed as his slave. That is not enough for me and I am not afraid." She smiled reassuringly, seeing his startled eyes, and continued petting him. "I do not know all of the answers, but together we will learn from Imhotep. And when I take Set's place I will battle Osiris and you, my lover, you will become a god in his place. I tell you now because I want you to share in this as an equal, not a slave. Does it not tempt you, the chance at becoming something far greater than you could have dreamed?" Silky lips pressed against his, drawing him into pleasure as he allowed himself to kiss her in return.

Breathlessly, he pulled away and whispered, "What makes you think Imhotep will help us do this terrible thing? This is very big, Ancksunamun. You're talking about fighting something more powerful than Imhotep was."

Her head rested against his shoulder as she held to him, rubbing gently and searching him over his clothes. This wasn't the same as what he had helped fight back in 1923. These creatures the ancients called gods were powerful and more deadly than anything that ever walked the earth. What she was considering was insane.

Ardeth's lashes fluttered when she pulled open his pants, asking for him to forget his fear. Under that touch came the temptation to do just that. He swallowed hard and hugged her closer, willing his hurts to melt into her. "I won't send you into battle without being certain of the outcome, lover. Imhotep will help us or I will allow you to have revenge on Nefertiri."

"Revenge," he repeated in a soft voice, looking at the storm that raged outside of their circle. Ardeth wanted to stop her invasive caress, wanted to stop himself from heading down that dark path, but he was too lost. The seduction was too powerful and a part of him didn't think he could stand her stopping, for this offered a place to hide. Ardeth didn't want to be dark, but he wouldn't be alone with his fear and failure if he surrendered. Abdu had done the strong thing and he could not. That made him feel so unworthy of what he had tried to become and was what would hold him, what would allow her to keep doing these things to him.

And he would have the vengeance his heart cried out for. This darkness in him would not go unpaid for by those who had brought it to him. And in that thought came something akin to satisfaction. Ardeth pulled Ancksunamun to his mouth, brushing the robe from her shoulders so he could view that which his innocence bought. He let go of another piece of who he had been. 

"I will do what you ask. Evy will suffer if Imhotep fails her," he murmured. His heart ached somewhere inside with those words, but he quickly gave it up. "I will go to Cairo and get the Book of Amun Ra and when I return, I will bring her with me. Then," he brushed his mouth against her throat and dug his fingers into her arms. "Then I will have my revenge."

Ancksunamun whimpered against his rough hold, but he didn't let up. Instead he looked down into her face with an unyielding determination, letting his anger fill him. Her eyes were unafraid and wanting, filled with lust and triumph. Ardeth closed his eyes, pushing worry and pride away, allowing himself to become weak again as she urged him down to the sand. Neither Ardan nor Omar would be proud if they could see what was inside; the angry, dark thing he was becoming. 

It didn't matter anymore.

*

Omar stood before the elders, his arms crossed and his eyes trained on the floor. He couldn't look into their faces just now, for his heart was deeply troubled. Sometimes he could his mind wandering from their words, so intent was his thought on Ardeth. And it wasn't so much that he was ashamed. He knew Ardeth had gone through some pretty terrible things at the hands of that priest. It was more out of fear and the question: why?

The tent got suddenly quiet and one of the elders stood. Jaalam, a man that had been Ardan Bay's friend, and had befriended Ardeth through his youth. He came slowly to Omar and laid a hand on his arm. "This is grave, Omar. Rasheyd may die from the wound Ardeth inflicted. Have you nothing to say?"

"I take responsibility," he replied, not looking up. Everything, every sound and sensation felt both numbing and painful all at once. How could his son have done this? How lost was he, that he could attack an elder and leave him to die? "I will go and I will stop him."

Jaalam jerked his hand back angrily, startling Omar with his unusual display of agitation. The elder turned and walked in silence, slow as his age, and reclaimed his seat. Omar looked up and frowned at the stern, steady glare. The other Med-Jai waved a dismissive hand. "No, you will not go. You will remain here while the young warriors bring him to justice."

Omar shifted his weight and shook his head. "It is my place to…" began, but couldn't continue.

"No," Jaalam interrupted. "It is _not_ your place, as you decided long ago. You stepped aside and gave up your son to another man. Ardeth Bay is not your responsibility."

The whole council knew now, but no others. Some of them weren't surprised, others rattled to the core and some had decided this made no difference at all. The old Med-Jai exhaled wearily and rubbed his temples at the burden now placed upon him. His eyes took on a sad, but hopeful expression. "Omar, you know we will do everything to be fair to your son. We are not a heartless people."

"Not heartless?" Omar spat, pacing in front of the elders. He stopped and spread his arms slightly. "Is this what you claimed to be when you turned your backs on him a month ago? You don't know how Ardan taught him to revere you. He would never have questioned the council's choice, whether right or _wrong_, and the guilt was thrust upon his shoulders for him to carry alone! And now you turn your backs on him again when he needs you most!"

Jaalam's dark eyes glistened with repressed anger as he glared Omar down. "Omar, what he has done is serious. Attempted murder on an elder is a serious offence, not to mention the fact that young Abdu and his mother and the young girl are still missing."

At that Omar shook his head. "Not attempted murder, Jaalam. Don't you dare call it that, for you know if he had wanted Rasheyd dead he would have seen it done." He knew his son, knew the difference between Ardeth's killing blows and those meant to slow an enemy down. A little under an hour ago the elder had been found lying in his tent with sword wound to the lower left-hand side of his chest. A devastating wound, no doubt, but not one meant to kill.

The elders were poised and set for justice, not mercy. Omar knew this to be right in his heart, but…this was his son. He felt so tense his body shivered as if cold. Ardeth had never looked so lost and broken in his eyes, Omar had noticed. His son was deeply wounded and going from that to something worse, being forsaken by his people. Not that Omar believed Ardeth should be free to do any crime he saw fit without fear of punishment, but it just seemed such a shame for him to have to spend his final weeks in such turmoil, caused by no fault of his own because a priestess had driven him to despair.

Omar shuddered inwardly at that thought. Final weeks. If Rasheyd died these may very well be his last, assuming the Med-Jai could get a hold of him. He was torn between wishing his son could disappear and knowing that something had to be done about this. He wasn't the only man to lose a loved one if Rasheyd were dead and Abdu and his mother and love. But this was his child. If he could take this from Ardeth somehow, he would walk through Hell itself to make it so.

Jaalam picked up on his solemn disquiet and his expression softened. "We will give Ardeth a fair trial, Omar. Have no fear against that. I personally guarantee that his story will be heard and judged with open hearts. This letter may be his redemption, my friend." He held up the paper that had been found near Rasheyd, containing the only evidence so far that Ardeth might not have acted at all, but an ancient spirit that had taken over his mind. If they brought him here, observed him and found that to be true, then he would not face death, slavery or banishment for his crimes.

Omar could only pray that was the reason Ardeth had done these things. He had seemed like Ardeth, however, and that's what frightened him. His son was different, melancholy, but by all rights seemed to speak with Ardeth's voice. Jaalam watched him struggle, then sighed. "More than this we cannot offer, Omar. You know our ways. You know if he escapes with these crimes on his heart that the destruction of his soul will only be hastened. He cannot heal without his sins paid for."

And that more than anything kept Omar from rushing right out to hide his son. Though he grieved it, he knew death would cleanse his son if there were guilt upon him. If Ardeth's guilt were left on him, it would only damage him more. The pain would never stop then. Omar looked up finally and nodded. "I know. I just…" He couldn't continue. Jaalam nodded his head once, sharing in his grief. "I will obey your wisdom, elders. I only beg your mercy."

The older Med-Jai in the center of the room again stood and came to his friend, lending the support of a hand on his back. "We will do what is right, Omar. For Ardeth's sake pray our men find him."

Omar kept his opinions to himself as they walked together from the main tent and into the now clear weather. The storm had died not long after Ardeth's departure, displaying clearly to all that it was not of nature. The priestess was truly awakened in some way and using her powers to tame even the winds. Perhaps Ardeth could not withstand a creature of such terrible ability. If he died for her sake, for her hungers…

With an inward breath, Omar left the company of his old friend without any words. None could be said in a situation like this and no comfort could be given. He needed the counsel of his wife before he did something rash.

*

**Montana** – Thanks!! I'm just glad you're enjoying it, but thanks for taking the time to let me know what you thought. :-D Wouldn't it be a lovely thing to be yanked into the sand?? ;-) Yikes.

**Lula** – Hehe! I like playing guessing games. Muahaha! Yeah, I thought I'd throw another good shocker for Ardeth to handle, just for good measure. Lol. Nothing like having more than one reason to give in to the darkside, eh? ;-) Thanks!

**Marcher** – I'm glad you liked that line. ;-) I thought Rick could use a little jolt into watching his language around Immy. And yeah…Poor Ardeth has a lot on his plate right now, now along with the prospect of going to war with the demon Set if Imhotep can tell him how to raise it without the seals. ;-) Doh! Thanks!

**Deana** – Lol…thanks, my friend. Yes…Ardeth on the darkside…what a tragedy. A very sexy tragedy. ;-)

**Mommints** – Thanks! I'm happy you all seemed to like the twist instead of thinking it was silly. Make sure boss don't catch you reading. ;-)

**Freakizimi** – Hehehe. Things may go right for him someday. Lol. ;-) He uh…might become a god. Yeah…a god. :-D Then Immy can be the High Priest of Ardeth instead of Osiris. Of course then I'd have to kick Immy out of the way so I could be High Priestess. Hehehe…but yeah…poor Ardeth's sure dealing with some stuff. Thanks!

Everyone else, thanks for reading! :-D - Angela


	17. Why?

Title: Passion - Chapter Sixteen – Why?

Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

Evy sat in Rick's bedroom that was tucked away in the shady crime lord's little hideaway at the docks, rubbing her hungry belly and watching him grimace as he stretched. The room was dimly lit and there were no windows, being that half the hideout was under ground. He shook his head and sat forward with a twinkle in his eyes. "I can't sit in this chair any more," was the only warning he offered. A few nights had passed with no word from Drake's men about Ardeth.

She gasped when he started trying to stand and got up off the bed to stop him. When her hands hit his shoulders and started shoving downward, he groaned and glared. "You're hurting me," he reported and she immediately stopped. Rick grinned and shoved himself up to a painful standing position, teasing with, "Sucker." Evy slapped his shoulder and he stuck his tongue out, hobbling to a nearby mirror.

"You're going to get yourself killed," she told him wryly, watching as he lifted his shirt to examine the stitches on his purple cut.

Rick touched the wound, groaned and nodded. "Probably. But it would be better than being stuck in that chair." He sighed and stood there, crouched over and wearing a solemn expression. The room suddenly felt darker and quieter. "I gotta get out there, Evy. I gotta help Ardeth."

Shaking her head vehemently, Evy frowned at him. "I know what you're planning and I won't have it! Do you think you'll do him any good laying on the ground, holding your wounded side like some fool?"

His return expression was no less ready for battle as he looked her over. "No, but I'll do him good hanging out the window of a car with a gun in my hands. I have a bad feeling about this. I know Drake's got his boys on it, but it's not good enough. Not for a friend."

"Not for a brother," Evy supplied when Rick grew silent. He nodded in the soft light and looked her over, resting his eyes on her midsection thoughtfully. It made her want to cover up and hide. He picked up on that in her sudden discomfort and those blue eyes raced up to meet hers, making her stomach flutter.

"Why didn't you ever let me love you?" he asked and she knew that the final thing between them would finally come to surface. This was a hurtful time in all their lives—a time when certain truths would surface in case the opportunity never came again.

Evy turned away and looked at the blue wallpaper, shaded by tones of gold from the lamp on Rick's desk. "Would it have changed things between us? Made things work, if I had given that to you?"

O'Connell painfully made his way back to his wheelchair and sighed softly. He needed this, but she just didn't know if she were up to talking so deeply. "No," was his reply after a few moments of silence. She looked when he came closer. "It wasn't important enough to make things better enough for that. I just sometimes forget why we went wrong." She bit her lip and got up from the bed. "Don't worry, Evy. I know that time is over. I just wondered why you couldn't let me do those things and yet Imhotep…you're going to have his baby. I know he's been decent, but I just can't trust him, Evy. Not yet. A baby is a big thing."

Feeling a few tears well up, Evelyn found a chair away from him and let herself sink into its comfy softness. "I know, Rick. And I'm scared of what the future might bring, but I have to have faith in him. You don't know him as I do."

He wheeled his chair to face hers and shook his head. "You don't know him as Nefertiri knew him. He's different, Evy. He's not that good priest with a dark thread, he's a bad priest with a good one. What if someone wrongs him and he takes a notion to murder them? What are you going to do for the rest of your lives? Evy, I don't mean to make you feel bad, especially in light of what's happening to Ardeth and everything else, but I'm worried."

"Don't you think I'm worried about those things?" she retorted hotly, angry at having her doubts thrown up into her face. "I didn't ask for this, Rick, but I can't take back what he and I did."

Rick waved his hand and inhaled deeply, another question in his eyes. Her own widened when he asked it. "Did he force you? Did he take advantage of you somehow, or manipulate you into it?"

He was at the hotel room, sleeping off his mortality. She could picture it, too. Imhotep always looked handsome in his sleep, resting shirtless on his stomach, perhaps one arm hanging off the bed. He looked almost innocent then. Evy absently rubbed her belly again. "Would it matter if I answered with no? Would you believe it?"

"Then why could you let him touch you and never me?" It was a simple question with no simple answer.

Evy wrapped her arms around herself and sank further into the chair. "I don't know." She couldn't pin the reason on fear that things wouldn't work out because she certainly had more reason to fear that with Imhotep than Rick. She could think of a few reasons why she had let herself be ruled by emotion where the priest was concerned; things like infatuation, the past taking over her sensibility. But she couldn't think of why she had never let Rick in that way. There had just never seemed to be a right time for it. "I wish I could have," she told him for what little it would be worth.

Surprisingly, Rick smiled gently and nodded as if it were enough. "You know if anything ever happened to him, or if he decided this wasn't where he wanted to be, I would take care of you and…" he motioned to her stomach. "I never did care what people talked about. Scandal might as well be my middle name."

At that Evy laughed and brought herself up from the chair to hug him. She found tears in her eyes as she rested her head against his shoulder. "What would I do without you, Rick?"

He held her gently and pulled her up to look into her face. "What would any of you do without me?" O'Connell grunted and looked over at a gun laying on his nightstand. "Speaking of which, I've got to get ready."

"This is stupid," she advised, watching him try to stand again. Instead of hindering him this time, she lent him a hand and helped him up and over to his gun. He sank onto the bed and started checking it. "This is _stupid_," she repeated with a little more emphasis.

Rick grinned and looked up. "Wouldn't be the first stupid thing I've done. Besides, Jonathan'll be there to watch me. Doesn't that make you feel more secure?"

Snorting, Evy crossed her arms and shook her head. "Not likely, Rick. Both of you separate is one thing. Together I believe you both quite capable of destruction like the world has never seen. Jonathan told me about you two letting Imhotep get drunk and the fight that almost came about at the pub because of it and while I don't appreciate that, I do want to thank you for keeping him quiet." She smirked. "Jonathan was quite amused by the duct tape over his mouth. He told me I'd have to try…" her eyes widened as she remembered herself and she blushed, "I mean _not_ try using it on him myself."

Her blush deepened at his wicked little smile. "Evy, that man's corrupting your soul."

"Jonathan?" she asked with a mock bright smile.

Rick smirked, fishing through his nightstand drawer. "Both of them. Hell, all of us in some way." He removed a small bundle of knives and shook a finger at her. "You know, you really need some female friends. Hanging out with us four? Not so good." Handing her a knife, he scratched his cheek and shrugged. "Come to think of it, I could use some female friends. Anyway, take that knife and keep it handy. You might want to use it on Imhotep with the tape or something."

Rolling her eyes, Evy examined the little switchblade and Rick dragged himself up again. "Will you at least let me wheel you outside?"

"That you can, Evy," he said, sinking into his chair with a groan. He rubbed at his side and motioned towards the door. "Can't let Jonathan leave without me."

"Oh no, we wouldn't want that," she replied smartly, taking her place behind him and shoving him towards the door a little quickly. He drew a sharp breath when she stopped just short of smacking his toes into the door wall as she turned him and opened the door, then pulled him into the hall.

Rick clutched the arms of his chair a little cautiously and grunted. "Remind me never to let you drive my car."

At that Evy laughed and bent close to his ear. "Want to go a little faster?" she whispered in a dark, husky tone and was complimented by his strangled silence. She was going to worry about he and Jonathan being out there. Perhaps she could bully Imhotep into following after them.

Outside the night bled of shadowy heaviness that drew her out of her playful mood almost immediately. Evy sighed and wheeled Rick to a nearby car where Jonathan and Drake stood waiting. "About bloody time," Jonathan groused, making a show of checking his watch. She suddenly felt very afraid for him as well as O'Connell. Rick was right. There was a bad feeling about this settling not only over himself, but over her as well. The sound of Rick's struggling washed away the soft splashing of the water nearby.

"Yeah, well, you try having a big slash in your side," Rick retorted, making it to the car with Evy's aid.

The big, black thief shook his head and grinned. "You always were foolish, Ricky. I almost wish I was going out there with you two."

"Right. You almost wish you were going on back inside and sinking into a bottle of whiskey, I'd imagine, too." Rick pulled the black door open and looked out across town. "Take Evy back to the hotel, will you? Aside from Imhotep killing me and me haunting you for letting her get mugged, I would hate myself if something happened to her and well, we wouldn't want me hating myself now would we?" He slipped inside the car and rolled the window down, batting his eyelashes. "Take care of Immy."

Evy laughed and leaned close to the open window to muss his hair. "You are incorrigible. Take care of Ardeth, okay? Don't let…" she swallowed and shook her head. "Don't let anything happen to him."

O'Connell smiled up at her reassuringly. "Don't you worry about Ardeth. He'll be right as rain and Ancksunamun? She'll be as dead as…well as dead as something dead, anyway. We'll do whatever it takes to make this okay. Just relax for a while and take care of the baby. Pick out a few names."

Patting her belly, Evy nodded and stepped back, then looked to her brother. He hugged her gently and leaned close to her ear to say his goodbyes, which weren't that at all. "Johanna has a nice ring to it," he told her with a laugh. "Jonna. Joan?" Evy hugged her brother a little harder and nodded. "We'll see. Imhotep's got a name in mind I think and well, we'll have to see how easy I can talk him out of it."

Jonathan grinned and pulled back, looking her over. "As long as it's not Imhotepia I think she'll be in the green, anyway. Take care, baby sister."

"Take care," she repeated, watching him go. Her stomach fluttered again as he too got in and Drake gave final instructions to the thug at the wheel, then straightened. The black car pulled away with Rick's wave out the window and she sighed. The assassin sidled up next to her and offered an arm. 

"I'll walk you home, my dear," he offered and she smiled back, feeling slightly more secure than if she had to walk alone. Slightly. Still, for a murdering criminal he did seem to have a certain charm and she doubted very seriously any harm would come to her by he or his men.

"That's very kind of you," she told him, taking the arm and beginning the walk.

Drake laughed richly and nodded his head, and she caught sight of watchfulness in his eyes. "I'll make Ricky pay for it one way or another."

She chuckled at that and looked down at the sand, listening to the sound of the water crashing against the docks as it faded behind them. "This whole operation is going to cost us all a fortune by the end of it."

The assassin waved his hand with a shake of his head. "Nah. I don't know much about Ardeth Bay, but from what I saw as a kid he was pretty decent. Not like most of them, that's for sure. Anyway, you could say I owed him maybe."

"You knew Ardeth?"

Drake nodded. "Yes, Ma'am. Not directly, but once when I was about ten and he was I'd image probably eight, I was picking on one of the young ones and he, even though I had the clear advantage of size, stopped me up short with a denunciation and a fist to the jaw. He was a good boy trying to help a kid out of getting his fair share of a good beating. Even though he hit me, I knew I liked him."

She smiled at the thought and looked up. "So you let them go?"

That drew a laugh and the big thief looked a little shame-faced. "The other boy, yes. Ardeth Bay? No, Ma'am. I beat the hell out of him for hitting me. Of course then my adopted father, a Med-Jai as Rick might have told you, beat the hell out of me. All in all it was a pretty good day."

That was certainly an interesting image, which drew a sad smile from Evelyn. She couldn't imagine many men being able to beat Ardeth successfully, but she could conceive of a woman that could. Her memories of Ancksunamun were those of a young woman whose life had been incredibly rough. And Ardeth had been one of the good guys, someone that had loved her for her and eased her pain. For that he was the focus of her lust and obsession, suffering from her madness.

Evy sighed and tried to put her mind off of him. They neared the hotel and looking up, she could see the light to her room on. Imhotep had awakened from his nap and was waiting for her return. With dinner, she hoped, or she was going to be very upset. Drake smiled down at her and opened his mouth to say his farewells, but something behind caught his attention from the side. Perhaps Imhotep.

Evelyn cried out when an arm encircled her waist and yanked her back from the thief. The hold was close and tight. A knife came to her throat and she instinctively grabbed at the arm of her attacker, but he was too strong. Drake stood between trying to save her and letting the man against her get away with his crime. "I recognize the face well enough, but the eyes are alien," the assassin commented with a grim expression. Evy shivered.

She couldn't see his face, but some strange intuition prepared her for who was holding her. Perhaps she recognized the hold from last time. "I'm sorry I don't have time for pleasantries," Ardeth said darkly and she closed her eyes. "I'll take her and be on my way, trusting your men will have the sense not interfere." The thief glared at the man over her shoulder. Evy made a fist, debating on whether or not it would be wise to attack him and get free, but a hand to her hair stopped her with its gentle petting. He leaned close to her ear and breathed, "Be good, Evy. Don't make me hurt you yet."

She would not become a victim of fear this time she decided. This was Ardeth. Nodding her head, Evy said softly, "Okay," and waited for what would happen.

Ardeth took his hand from her and used it to go through a bag by his side. Something hit the sand not long after and she looked down, and then gasped. The Book of the Dead lay ominously upon the ground with the key in the face and a folded up paper not far from its side. "Give those to Imhotep, the High Priest."

Drake inclined his head slightly with his eyes ever upon Ardeth's actions. "I will," he agreed in a low tone, making no move for the book.

Evy felt the knife dig a little closer into her throat as her friend pulled her back and held her fast, taking her into an alley. The whinny of a horse announced their mode of transportation. "Are you hers now?" she asked him in a mild voice as he shoved her towards the horse and waved the knife.

"You have one objective, Evelyn and that's staying alive. Do that by obedience." Ardeth darted glances around the shadowy alley before climbing onto the horse behind her. He wrapped himself into her, taking the reigns and holding the dagger close to her to ward off attack. With a kick the horse was spurred on and the path ahead was revealed as the outskirts. They would leave Cairo this way, perhaps.

She had been through this before at the hands of Akhenre, but it seemed somehow different when it was Ardeth. In the dark she hadn't been able to catch a good glimpse of his eyes, but there was a different atmosphere about him that made her a little nervous. _He won't hurt you_, she told herself firmly, willing the belief to overtake the swelling fear. He hadn't then and he wouldn't now. "Why did you give Imhotep the Book of the Dead?" she asked suddenly, wondering if that were a sign for hope.

Ardeth exhaled and urged the horse faster. "He may need it to ordain me," he answered cryptically, which made her frown. She would have asked more, but he pressed the knife against her lips softly and warned, "Don't speak. Just obey."

Evy swallowed in relief when he brought it back down to her collar. There was a reason for his actions. A good reason. Perhaps Ancksunamun had driven him completely insane. She looked down at the horse's mane and fidgeted with her fingers. She _would_ have faith in him after all they had been through. Things weren't serious yet. 

*

Imhotep lounged on the couch studying a book of the Egyptian alphabet made into English. The lessons were written in the Hebrew language and therefore as he gained a more solid understanding of which English letters made what sound, he began to understand how to read the Israeli words haltingly. Next would come a more detailed instruction from his princess on how to actually speak in English—a task which she groaned upon, for she claimed it was likely the most difficult language to learn.

He sighed and looked at the door, wondering when she would walk in. It was getting late and he would not tolerate her staying up all hours of the night in her condition. Still, he knew he was no longer a man of great power. No better than any common man wandering around and perhaps worse for he depended on her when he should be providing her with all the riches her heart desired.

Still, he was not above working. In his days he had many duties aside from tending to the spiritual concerns of his people. He had been a physician and a teacher and an architect. Nefertiri had spoken of people in differing lands wishing to learn of his ancient culture and perhaps if the language barriers were bridged he could teach them. Imhotep held the book away from his face and squinted at the words. Glasses, she had called them.

Imhotep, Master of the Dead and High Priest of Osiris would be demeaned in his mortality by so despicable a reason as weakening eyes. Perhaps if these westerners did not write in such small characters, then he would not require such things as she had shown him. Still, his princess used them. Perhaps it was not such a bad thing. He had put hers on and been labeled charming.

A sip from his glass of wine sent a thrill of taste into his mouth and he smiled in contentment. Mortality could be nice. The book in his hands demanded less attention as his mind drifted off to his Nefertiri and wonderings of what the child within her would be like. He had never considered being a father before. His life had been about his priestly duties and finding affection where it could be had—ultimately with Nefertiri until Ancksunamun had tricked them. Where they might have gone if that had not been, he could only guess. It wasn't important anyway. He had her now and their child.

A knock at the door jarred Imhotep from his thoughts. Setting the book down, he got up and answered the door, wondering who it was. Nefertiri would not knock unless she had lost her key. The door revealed the large assassin from the hideout. "Nefertiri?" he asked, knowing there would be no point in saying more with his ancient words.

The assassin looked pensive and impatient as he thrust forward the black Book of the Dead and pointed at an envelope. "Ardeth Bay," he answered and that was all that was necessary. Imhotep took the book and paper, then shut the door as Drake disappeared down the hall.

Imhotep wandered to the center of the room and opened the paper, tucking the book beneath his arm. Thankfully it was written in hieroglyphic, which Nefertiri had taught Bay that he could read his papers when he could not speak. When he got to the bottom of the paper he threw it down and glared out the window with furious eyes. "Foolish Med-Jai!"

The High Priest of Osiris hurled the Book of the Dead into a nearby mirror and let his rage consume him. He stormed to his suitcase and retrieved the gun he had stolen from O'Connell, which he then in turn had denied possession of. This was too far. Nefertiri suffered too much worry and anxiety for Ardeth and Ancksunamun. It was time to end this once and for all.

Imhotep pocketed the new age weapon and thrust the Book of the Dead into his suitcase, then hid it beneath the bed so he could leave it here. There was nothing he could say to the people at the front desk, nor did he care. He had another book to steal.

*

Okay…I know you guys might be getting weirded out with Ardeth being all evil. And well, you just gotta trust me. ;-) I'm not the type of author that assures or confirms…I thrive on surprising. ;-) But rest assured it will all be explained. Three more chapters after this one!

**Lula** – He kinda isn't our Ardeth, though. He's always portrayed as being unbreakable and unstoppable…I wanted to bring him to a point rarely seen in fics. :-) All for the art, baby. Lol. Anyway, thanks for the review…I'm glad his corruptibility is being accomplished well.

**Montana** – I do appreciate ya! :-) Thanks very much for spending so much time on my story…makes me happy that you enjoyed it enough to do so. :-) You rock! And yes, Anck needs her butt kicked bad, huh? Mmm. Now I would love to kiss all Ardeth's wounds better. ;-) Anyway, yes. I like throwing a little mental angst in there for some reason...lol. Physical h/c stories are great, but for some reason I just love to ravage emotions, too. ;-) Thanks very much for your compliments!

**Marcher** – Nothing wrong with a few delusions, is there? -) Anck is crazy! Thanks for the review. :-)

**Deana** – They're gonna KILL Ardeth when they find him! MUAHAHAHAHA! ;-) Juuust kidding. Or am I? :-O Thanks!

Thanks everyone else reading! Hope you're enjoying and hope you don't voodoo me into a bed for the next year by the end of this. ;-) -Angela


	18. Faith

Title: Passion - Chapter Seventeen – Faith

Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

Imhotep crept on silent feet towards the building Ardeth had cited in his little note. The sliver of moon was a blessing, for the shadows were deep and darker than should the moon have been whole. He held the gun ready in case of need, but managed to keep his cool enough as not to shoot without wisdom, though his heart greatly desired to vent its frustration.

Kidnapped by her own friend, dragged off to Hamunaptra to wait to see if her faith in him failed! He most certainly would not fail, but that did not mean Imhotep was going to easily let the Med-Jai get away with his little scheme. What Ancksunamun was planning was utter insanity. Even what they had done in the name of their false love had been insane, he knew, now that he could reflect upon it with clarity of mind. But to become a god? Was she mad?

'Not bloody likely' was a phrase Jonathan had taught him and he would enjoy saying it to Ancksunamun when she asked him to aid her little plot. Imhotep snorted in contempt and stalked on, casting the weeping stars a mournful glance. If Nefertiri suffered at the hands of the Med-Jai, he was going to let loose his full rage.

What she was suggesting Imhotep was not even certain could be done. He had never been taught any such thing as humans becoming gods. Just what she expected him to teach her, he wasn't certain, but if Nefertiri suffered even a glare because of his ignorance he would torment Ancksunamun to no end.

The house of a Med-Jai named Ali was his destination. Inside the home he would find the Book of Amun Ra and likely a very watchful Med-Jai who would kill him given the chance. Ardeth had warned him not to try talking his way through this, had said he suspected the Med-Jai were possibly looking to end his life—something about what someone had said while he had spirited the Book of the Dead away, so Imhotep was not to trust any Med-Jai. Imhotep grunted his opinion on that. As if he would ever trust a Med-Jai! Ardeth Bay had been the only one who had proven himself worthy of that and even his own motives were now in question.

Someone walked ahead and the priest shoved his hands into his pockets. It looked to be a lawman. Imhotep kept his eyes focused on the ground, conscious that if he were questioned he would not be able to answer. As it was the stranger only nodded in acknowledgement of his presence and Imhotep returned the gesture in relief.

Reaching the housing area of Cairo, the Priest of Osiris kept to his dark purpose and looked at various street signs and house numbers, seeking that which matched the ones Bay had written in his letter. If he had stolen Nefertiri, could he have not stolen the book as well? Perhaps he feared taking that chance, being spotted and stopped. Whatever the case, Imhotep felt churlish about it. He was accustomed to sneaking around—had done it with Nefertiri and then with Ancksunamun, so he was confident he could pull this off, but the whole sum of these troubles bothered him.

He did not know what conversations were taking place between Nefertiri and her old friend, but Imhotep held very little doubt that it was causing her pain. Her pain was his pain and there would be more to be had by the end of this.

The house was of a medium build, dark both within and out. The priest looked on it with caution, knowing it may well be watched from any number of sources. Ali was not the only Med-Jai wandering Cairo. Steeling himself, Imhotep opened the steel gate beside the residence and made for the back yard, hoping to obscure his doings from wandering eyes.

The back door was locked—naturally, and Imhotep frowned. He had nothing to pick the lock, nor could he merely shoot it open. The windows were unbarred, but the Med-Jai within would hear if he broke one. This was one of those times when reality slapped him in the face with his own mortality. If only it were as simple as turning to dust! His mind traveled back to the night he had slipped past the lock to Nefertiri's bedroom. Even then he had not been able to stop himself from revisiting her mouth, though his heart had beat for Ancksunamun. She had been so frightened of him that night. He sighed.

Stealth was not an option. Imhotep frowned, removed the gun from his pocket and looked at the window. He would simply have to overcome whoever was within those walls. Darting glances around the night-filled yards on either side, the priest shrugged in satisfaction, lifted the gun and slammed it into the window. Unfortunately his arm followed, slicing his skin from his knuckles to beyond his wrist. Imhotep cursed and eased his bleeding arm from the broken glass, then forced himself to forget the pain.

He unlocked the window and climbed in, trying to do it quietly and quickly. The entire home was dark, but he could hear rustling upstairs. Imhotep crept from the kitchen into the living room and waited at the foot of the stairs. The rustling stopped and for long moments he considered that perhaps the Med-Jai had taken his security for granted and gone back to bed, but a small creak—so light he questioned whether he had heard it at all, convinced him otherwise. He backed and crouched, holding the gun steady.

The stairs were being descended upon slowly and tentatively. Imhotep held his breath, not liking the fear that came with mortality. If he failed Nefertiri would pay.

A figure appeared at the bottom of the stairs, standing ready with a scimitar displayed in the scant light coming from outside. Still, Imhotep waited, wondering if there were any more. The shadow moved and began searching with eyes and ears. There were no other sounds from upstairs. It was now or never. Imhotep leapt up, wrapped his arms around the Med-Jai and shoved the gun to his temple, asking in his own tongue, "Where is the Book of Amun Ra?"

The Med-Jai stayed still, knowing his life hung in the balance as long as that gun was aimed at him. His reply was not in Egyptian or English and Imhotep groaned in frustration. He tried again in Hebrew and received the same result. "You are of no use to me," he said, fingering the trigger, ready to kill this Med-Jai for wasting his time. But the sound of a gun would draw far too much attention. The scimitar met Imhotep's eyes and he opted to use it.

The Med-Jai named Ali struggled for a moment as Imhotep wrenched the blade from his fingers, very nearly bested by this other man, but in the end he won. Imhotep yanked the sword away and ran his enemy through, then let the man drop. A startling sensation hit him as he watched the Med-Jai writhe on the floor. Guilt? If Nefertiri heard she would be upset. She would think him evil, perhaps.

He couldn't take it back. Imhotep sighed and headed up the stairs, reminding himself of just how terrible these Med-Jai were. At the top came a surprise. A foot slammed into his hand, knocking the gun from him as the lights came on. Imhotep glared at the woman who had interrupted his work. She spoke in that other language—the one Nefertiri used with Ardeth, and he spread his hands. "Do you speak Egyptian?" he asked and she looked him over with distrusting, uncomprehending eyes. "Nefertiri…Evelyn. Ardeth Bay…he needs the Book of Amun Ra."

At mention of Ardeth's name the woman's brows narrowed. She said something of Ardeth Bay and Ali, then very clearly said his own name and that of Osiris with contempt in her voice. Perhaps Bay was correct. The Med-Jai still harbored angry feelings toward him.

There could be no help for it. Imhotep kicked out in a flash, knocking the scimitar away and startling the woman. His hand found the gun he had dropped and he pointed it, emphasizing the name of Amun Ra in the hope she would understand what he needed. Her eyes moved ever so slightly in the direction of one of the rooms up here and that was all he needed. Imhotep grabbed her and would have killed her, but for the gnawing feeling at the pit of his stomach. Instead he slammed her into the wall—knocking her out, then raced into the room she had betrayed to him.

After a minute of searching he found it tucked away in a locked drawer, which he had to break open. He wasted no time with Nefertiri's life in danger. Imhotep left the fallen Med-Jai behind and exited the house. Now he needed transportation.

In the back Ali kept a fine looking horse and Imhotep saddled and bridled it, then left the house of the Med-Jai swiftly. Ardeth and Nefertiri had over an hour on him, but he hoped to make up for that lost time and end her suffering as soon as possible.

And making Ardeth pay might be an interesting perk.

*

Morning came and with it, the Med-Jai. Jonathan looked ahead at these men that Ardeth believed so blindly in, worried that they were out to take his friend away. He didn't consider himself a fan of the law, not usually and was more for mercy—having been on the receiving end of judgment before. But this wasn't a stolen item or a drunken brawl or even about a man who had done crimes of his own volition. This was about a man controlled by an evil priestess, whose fate could be determined by the mercy of these hard warriors who would have killed them all at Hamunaptra if Rick hadn't lit an explosive. Such as it was, Jonathan scowled in bias towards them, thinking of Ardeth's possible future.

Drake's man Karl cursed and stopped the car as five of them approached. "Right, well, get your guns ready," he warned, laying his hand on a colt by his side. Jonathan blinked and rolled his window down a bit for some fresh air.

A young, stern-faced Med-Jai who didn't bother to get off his horse loomed above on the driver's side and when Karl got his window down, he asked, "What is your business in the desert? Don't you know there are dangerous men abroad?"

Karl snorted and looked the other over. "You mean like you? Last I heard there weren't no laws about riding around the desert. If you got a problem…"

"Let me handle this," Rick said from the back and Jonathan sighed, making sure his gun was handy. Rick rolled his window down and smiled. "Lovely morning, isn't it? You wouldn't have happened to have seen a crazy lady wandering around, wrecking people's lives? She's about so tall, black hair and a witchy attitude. She might have a prisoner with her—a friend of mine actually, who…"

The Med-Jai sighed and spurred his horse into what Jonathan assumed was supposed to be some sort of intimidating pacing. "You must be O'Connell. Spare me your smart tongue. We have not seen Ancksunamun or Ardeth Bay, but rest assured we are looking. Have you seen him in Cairo? We thought perhaps they had gone there."

Rick shook his head. "No. Did you try the Temple of Set? That's where they were headed, or didn't Ali tell you about that?"

"We tried the temple, outlander," he replied darkly and Jonathan bent down to look at him. He was fierce, large and angry looking. Jonathan made a face at Rick and he shrugged.

"I say, old boy, we're not having a good morning, are we?" he called out, peering up at the stranger.

The Med-Jai looked at his companions, then down at the sand. "When we reached the temple we found the bodies of two Med-Jai—a boy and his mother. It is our belief, however grievous that may be, that Ardeth has done this."

Rick shook his head at that, retorted, "Uh-uh. If you knew what that witch did to him, you'd know better. He's not himself and he doesn't deserve to be treated like a criminal. Of course he didn't last time either, but you know, life is hard." Jonathan sighed at his sarcastic tone, echoing those thoughts inside his head. It also echoed the guilt he felt from time to time, remembering how he himself had treated Ardeth after he had attacked Evy.

The stern faced warrior looked inside the car uncertainly. He seemed genuinely disturbed and that put an unsettling feeling over Jonathan. "You don't know how much I want to believe that, outlander. Ardeth Bay was a friend of mine, but I saw the elder he attacked when he stole the Book of the Dead."

"What happened?" Rick tested and for their sakes Jonathan hoped these Med-Jai were feeling chatty instead of eager for blood as he surmised by their stance.

Wheeling his horse around, the Med-Jai inhaled and looked over the desert. "We aren't certain exactly, but we found the body of a young Med-Jai girl one night, then after a day and night had passed a storm came, obscuring our vision of the desert. Ardeth Bay snuck into camp, stabbed one of the elders and stole the Book of the Dead. We cannot say for sure what he plans to use it for, but the three dead Med-Jai we found and the knowledge that he has taken the blood of an elder does not bode well for him."

Rick grunted and shook his head. "Yeah, I was afraid of something like that. He's not himself, though. Something's got a hold on him, some ancient ghost called Akhenre." Jonathan frowned at the lie, but Rick shook his head. "We came out here to make sure he wasn't judged unfairly."

The Med-Jai nodded and looked at the driver of their vehicle. "Yes, you come with one of those thieves, I see. There were others that we dispatched."

At that Karl drew his gun, but Jonathan was quick to grab his wrist. "Not now," he pleaded, but the assassin would have nothing of it. The Med-Jai drew their weapons and Jonathan sighed, thankful Evy was safe back in Cairo.

"You killed them?" Karl hissed, holding his gun aimed straight for the Med-Jai leader's head.

The Med-Jai cocked his head, unafraid and even allowed a smile to cross his features. "We kill trespassers, thief. We caught them at the site of the Temple of Set and did what we had to."

Rick swore and Jonathan nodded his agreement. This had taken a decidedly dangerous turn. "So, is that what you have planned for us?" Rick asked, drawing his gun slowly.

Surprisingly the warrior shook his head and told his comrades to lower their weapons. "No, O'Connell. If it were the thief alone, yes, but in your case we will make an exception because you bore friendship for Ardeth Bay. We will take you into custody and let the elders decide."

"Custody?" Jonathan gasped, not liking the sound of that one bit. Somehow the idea of being taken into the Med-Jai encampment without Ardeth speaking for them seemed a trifle unappealing. Of course it was likely Ardeth's voice meant little now, from the sound of it. "We aren't criminals," he added, then eyed Karl thoughtfully. "Most of us."

The Med-Jai frowned at them and opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of hoof beats filled the air, offering up a distraction. "Codei!" a voice called, breaking the air with sharp panic. "Codei!" The Med-Jai turned his head and answered the call. A young warrior rode hard and fast towards the group and looked on with frightened eyes as he stopped the horse. "Ancksunamun attacks the Med-Jai encampment! Return and help us!"

Codei widened his eyes and urged his horse towards the younger man's. "Ancksunamun? Is Ardeth Bay with her?" The boy shook his head. The older Med-Jai turned his face to O'Connell's. "Will you fight with us, or side with the enemy?"

Rick grunted and put his gun away. "I'll side with my friends and since he believes in you, I guess I will too. We'll come."

With a nod the Med-Jai warrior spurred his horse and the six took off towards the camp. Jonathan raked a hand through his hair nervously and shook his head. She could quite possibly level the whole camp before they even got there. "You think Ardeth got away?" he asked hopefully and the look on O'Connell's face troubled him.

"I don't know, Jonathan. I hope so. 'Cause if she killed him…" He stopped and left it there. He didn't have to finish that sentence, for Jonathan agreed whole-heartedly. It was time for Ancksunamun to get a little of hers.

*

"So, would you mind telling me what the big act is all about?" Evy asked, watching Ardeth as he leaned against the wall reading a paper in his hands. Night would fall soon, blanketing them in darkness within the outer chamber of Hamunaptra. Here they would wait three days for both Imhotep and Ancksunamun to come. The irony of that struck her just now. He looked up from the paper darkly, fingering the knife held loosely in his hand with a meaningful intent in his eyes. Evy crossed her arms and laughed. "I'm sorry," she apologized when he knit his brows. "You look rather funny, pretending to be evil. It doesn't suit you."

In the blink of an eye the weapon was at her throat. "Who says I'm pretending?" he said menacingly, but she didn't flinch.

"Prove it," she challenged, drawing back from the blade and getting to her feet. Ardeth drew up as if he were going to pounce on her and that, perhaps, did alarm her slightly. Evy pushed that aside and kept her proud stance. "Prove you're evil now, Ardeth. Hurt me. Stop me from escaping. Anything."

Her friend watched her through unreadable eyes and remained still. "Be quiet, Evelyn." His voice sounded tired.

She most certainly would not. Tucking her hair behind her ears, Evy shot back, "If I don't, what then? Will you hit me? Will you cut me?"

"Perhaps," he breathed as he leaned against the wall again, keeping the dagger drawn.

Evy drew herself up, ready finally to test her faith in him. "Prove it!" she yelled again, then took off towards the exit. He could catch her, she knew. She had no illusions of outrunning him. But it was what he would do after that interested her. All during their trip he had insisted she keep quiet and not question him and she suspected she knew why. Because her talk would make his determination waver. He wouldn't be able to fight the temptation of goodness if she spoke kindly.

True to her foresight Ardeth did catch her, throwing his arms around hers and dragging her back into the darkness. He turned her around and pressed her against the wall, holding the dagger to her collarbone. His eyes were angry and frightening, but she forced herself to keep his gaze. If he were going to hurt her, he would do it while she watched him. But he wouldn't. His breathing came hard and he made no move to punish her, nor did he move to free her either. "Did you think I wouldn't follow you if you asked me to?" she whispered and his hand found her arm as if to quiet her. "Is that why you thought you had to scare me?"

"I'm trying to scare you into obedience, Evy," he replied in a hard voice, but she could see his defenses shaking. He brushed the blade against her skin softly and pleaded, "Don't make me hurt you. Anyone but you."

Evy swallowed and looked into his sad face, wondering what Ancksunamun had done to him in their short time apart. It made her angry, made her heart ache for him. "You don't have to hurt me, Ardeth. I'll follow you. I trust you."

He shivered against her and she knew that he wouldn't last against her faith. Ancksunamun had bled the hope out of him and he would soak in her own hope like a sponge to water. "Why do you trust me?" he whispered, sounding like he believed himself unworthy of that treatment. Perhaps somewhere inside he was capable of hurting her after all.

Evy didn't know, nor did she care. She was reaching him and he needed that so desperately. Her voice trembled as she reached for his face. "Because I love you, Ardeth. I love you so much." He shifted uncomfortably as if he were the one pinned, but she wouldn't let up. "Whatever's happened, it doesn't matter. I'm not going to leave you, either physically or emotionally."

"Don't!" he hissed, pressing his blade closer. He was fighting inside. She could see the battle being waged in his eyes. "Don't trust me. Don't love me, Evy. Don't you understand? I _will_ hurt you if I have to. I must obey her."

Evy shook her head quickly at that, drawing her arms up over him. He resisted, but she didn't let him go. "Then you'll have to hurt me, won't you? I still won't stop loving you." She yanked him close and tied him into her arms. For his credit Ardeth did try to push her away, but his strength failed him and his head soon fell to her shoulder in need for love or forgiveness or both. She didn't know how deep his pain went or what had been done, and perhaps now it didn't matter. Ancksunamun would be stopped and he would be safe. She would keep him safe and loved no matter who turned their back on him or what he had done. For a little while Evy pet Ardeth, staring across his shoulder at the darkness beyond. It smothered her as his own smothered him, but there was always a light shining somewhere.

His knife sliced into her skin and she bit her lip, wondering briefly if he did it on purpose. Yet no other move was made. He hadn't realized. It made her hurt to have such a thought against him, but pain or no, she didn't let go of him. The sting was rapidly becoming worse as the heaviness of their embrace drove it further into her. Though she hated to interrupt his healing, finally Evy whimpered and he pulled away to see what was wrong.

When his eyes met the blood on her collar, he exhaled and brushed his finger across it gently, making her wince in pain. "I'm sorry, Evy," he whispered sadly, then turned away from her. "I must obey her." The truth in that statement made her sigh.

Evelyn stepped away from the wall and touched his back, rubbing him gently as she wished for a way to change this for him. He whipped around with wide, shocked eyes as if reliving a grievance and startled, she thought to back away, but couldn't. He meant no harm to her and those wounded eyes called out for understanding.

Instead she only came closer, drawing him back into her arms and she marveled at how easy it was. "Lie down," she told him, urging him to the floor. He pushed against it, but she didn't let him win the fight. "Lie down," she repeated and when he gave in, she hugged into his side and held him close. "You're exhausted, Ardeth. Go to sleep. I promise I won't leave you."

Ardeth said nothing in reply and made no movements save his uneasy breathing and a hand resting against her shoulder. He gave her a grateful squeeze and Evy closed her eyes, saying silent prayers for him.

*

**Mommints** – Never! I'll never bring Ardeth back! HA! Lol…you guys haven't even seen evil. ;-) No really though, we'll see…can't reveal all before it ends. :-O Thank you very much…I'm very glad this is being well received and I'm not being stoned for it…hehe! I mean yeah, I know Ardeth's pretty strong, but I'm sure we all have our breaking points…I think his would be having to hurt people. :-O So thank you for your compliments on how I've portrayed his downfall. :-D

**Marcher** – Thanks! I'm happy my R/E interactions were liked. I took a whim and it paid off, eh? :-) I may pair Evy with others, but that don't mean I dislike Rick. I just prefer Ardeth and Imhotep, can write them easier and I get afraid of writing original characters too much, for fear of delving into Mary Sueism, which I would be tempted to do. ;-) As for Immy's evil thread, perhaps. ;-) And thanks for compliments on Drake…I rather enjoyed breathing life into my little whim.

**Lula** – Hehehe..poor Ardeth has flipped. ;-) Imhotepia…that's horrible…truly evil. Hehehehe. I'm so glad I thought of it. :-D Thanks, my friend. I think Anck'll get hers, but who knows? ;-) Muahaha.


	19. Priest of Osiris

Title: Passion - Chapter Eighteen – Priest of Osiris

Author: Angela - jedinineofnine@hotmail.com - http://geocities.com/saturnfiction   
Summary: Something's bothering Ardeth. Of course it's never as simple as that.  
Disclaimer: No infringement intended. I own Asenath, Drake, Samira, Mahmud, Abdu, Omar and Ali.   
Prequel (which should be read to get this): http://fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=654922&chapter=1   
Codes: Ardeth/Ancksunamun, Imhotep/Evy 

*

Imhotep watched in silence with his back leaned against the wall. Nefertiri lay curled around Akhenre and it served to remind the priest, as sometimes things did, that he was not truly a part of this time. He held no doubt that she loved him, but sometimes Imhotep felt out of place in this world—llike he didn't fit and shouldn't be here. Perhaps this was the true curse. The Hom-Dai kept him from true life.

They looked beautiful in their blessedness, untainted by evil—even Bay, no matter what he had done. He thought about the Med-Jai he had killed back in Cairo, who had only been doing his duty. They didn't know evil as he himself did and he envied that. Bay had lost his innocence somewhere, but not like Imhotep had. Not like this curse upon him. Ardeth still had a chance to fight back from the darkness closing around his soul.

Nefertiri stirred as morning's light streamed in through the open entrance to Hamunaptra and when she looked up, her eyes met his own. Careful not to disturb her friend, she crawled towards Imhotep and threw herself into his welcoming arms. Her hold was fast and tight, arms marred by grief and need.

"There's so much damage," she whispered and he sighed, rubbing a hand through her hair.

Imhotep closed his dark eyes and kissed her head gently, wanting to take the pain from her. "He will be just fine, princess," he returned just as softly, letting his eyes slide over the sleeping form nearby. "He has people that love him as they love their own lives. A man cannot fight healing against such odds. I could not."

His princess pulled away and looked up into his face, her eyes glistening and a smile written across her mouth. She closed her eyes almost shyly and kissed him for his kindness. Imhotep basked in the light of it, wishing he could live inside that beauty forever. As it was, she pulled away when her friend stirred in his sleep restlessly.

Bay slowly sat up, conscious perhaps of the missing warmth by his side, and looked around for her as he reached for a dagger. Imhotep said nothing, but watched that hand curl around the blade with dark intent. When the Med-Jai saw where she had gotten to, his grasp eased. Those wounded eyes rested against Nefertiri and Imhotep softly. "Ordain me," he said simply. There was nothing else either of them could say. They both knew the gravity of the situation, the dangers that stood before them both. 

"Ardeth, what is this about becoming a priest?" Evelyn questioned and Imhotep held her to him protectively.

Bay looked down at the floor, accepting his fate. "I must fight Set as a priest of Osiris." Imhotep said nothing. He would take actions to prevent what he must when the time came and there was no need in trying to convince Bay otherwise. He knew what he had to do, but for now he would humor Ardeth for the sake of keeping Nefertiri safe. If the Med-Jai harmed her for this purpose it would draw him deeper into the dark.

Nefertiri would not let her own words go unsaid, however. Instantly she flared with frightened anger. "You must _what_? Ardeth, that's crazy! Surely you can see that!"

Gripping the dagger again, Ardeth held it pointed at her with firmness. "Don't question this, Evelyn. I told you last night that I would obey her and that is my intent. Imhotep will ordain me as a priest of Osiris or you will suffer for it. There are no other options."

Imhotep seethed inside at seeing Nefertiri cry. A few tears slid down her cheeks and he brushed them aside, watching the Med-Jai look away in shame of what his own lips were saying, what his own heart was intending. The high priest would not push him to anything that would break them both. Letting Nefertiri go, Imhotep made his way to the side of Ardeth Bay and nodded. "For her sake and yours I will do as I must. I will require two things. The knife and your trust."

"Imhotep!" the princess snapped and he gave her a hard look that had the immediate effect he was looking for. She clamped her mouth shut and glared through her tears, crossing her arms angrily. He smiled softly at that, thinking of how beautiful she looked even in such a way, and his princess took her eyes away from his.

He turned back to the Med-Jai and was greeted by wary eyes. Bay's fingers stayed wrapped around the dagger uncertainly as he asked, "Why do you need this? What will happen?"

"Osiris is the guardian of the underworld," the priest began plainly, retaking his role as teacher once more as he fidgeted with his fingers—an unseemly habit he had picked up from Nefertiri. "To be ordained you must come to the gates of the underworld and be judged. I must cut your left side and speak a prayer. You will bleed and hover on the outskirts of death for a few hours, during which Osiris will judge your soul. If you are worthy to become his priest, you shall live. If you are not, you will die."

The ancient world came back into his mind. Imhotep could recall clearly his own conversion to priesthood. Held down by the priests of Osiris he had lain, closing his eyes against the pain of the High Priest's dagger pressing into his side roughly and the sounds of harsh chanting. There in the temple he had been left to die. Surrounded by candles and his own blood, Imhotep had waited for that death to claim him, too, but it never came.

Only a few hours had passed and when it finally ended the High Priest returned to his side, proclaiming his worthiness and that he foresaw a great future for the young, newly made priest. Imhotep could also recall the elation of that, the desire for power. The selfishness that had brought him to this.

Ardeth looked wary about risking his life, but this was what all priests risked with this undertaking. Imhotep waited patiently and when the dagger met his hand, breathed in relief. The weakness of the test would keep Bay from stopping him from what he must do. It was _his_ place to die. "Allah, forgive me," Ardeth breathed, laying down before Imhotep and unbuttoning his shirt.

Imhotep glanced to the side when movement caught his vision and saw that his Nefertiri was standing to leave. "I can't watch this. I'll be in the hall." She didn't wait for either man to speak and Ardeth sighed.

The priest looked back down upon Bay with truthful eyes as he pulled the shirt from the his side. "You know I will stop you," he said plainly, then took Ardeth's distraction as an opportunity to slash the dagger across his side. Bay writhed against the sudden pain and gasped out, flinging his arms to ward off any more attacks. Imhotep easily pushed them aside and touched his hand to the wound, letting the blood flow onto his fingers.

Ardeth tried to sit, but Imhotep shoved him back and began a ritual that he had many times before. He traced his fingers over Bay's heart, drawing with his blood the hieroglyphs that would welcome judgment upon this man. The Book of Dead was needed for many chants, but this was one no priest of Osiris ever forgot or needed help with. Imhotep shared eye contact with Ardeth and softened his gaze in empathy of the fear this ritual caused. "Osiris, guardian of the underworld, hear your faithful priest. I bring another before you, to accept judgment and commission, to serve and to die if you find him worthy. By the sacrifice of his blood is his request made and I speak in favor of him."

The weakness was already settling in over Ardeth and Imhotep brushed away needful hands. This was a private thing, lonely and dark. He stood up and left Bay to die as he had been left, as he had left other men and even a few women. The High Priest of Osiris exhaled and retreated down the hallway Nefertiri had taken. She glared at him with moist eyes and he looked down. "Did you do it?" Her voice was small, but enough to make his heart ache with what lay ahead.

"I did it, Nefertiri. I called Osiris to judge him." Imhotep rubbed his sticky, bloody fingers together and held up his hand. Nefertiri touched a fingertip to his and let her expression soften at his heaviness. "Now we wait." He looked her over gently, lovingly. He had to teach her the chant. "Nefertiri, when Ancksunamun comes I will need you to help me stop her."

"Stop her?" she questioned, tucking her beautiful brown hair behind her ears. The princess sniffled and looked puzzled.

Imhotep shook his head, not wanting to do this. But there was no other choice. He sighed and brought her lips to his, drawing strength from her kiss. "Yes, my love. To stop her she must be unbound from Set. It is the only way to cut her off from her power."

Evy's eyes widened dramatically and her hand raced to cover her mouth. Her tears struck him with every bit the force of a slap. She knew what sacrifice was required to unbind a priest or priestess from Set and she was now terrified. "No. No! There _has_ to be another way! Imhotep, please! You can't do this." Amidst her yelling and struggles he said nothing, but pulled her into his arms until finally she gave in and held him. "Don't you leave me with this baby. I can't do it alone."

"You will not do it alone," he said softly into her hair, knowing that with a certainty. The others, all three, would never leave her side if she had need. "Please let me teach you the words."

*

Rick brought a hand to his mouth, choking on the taste of his own blood. His lip was cut, not to mention his arm, his thigh and the healing itchy wound on his side. Hovering on his knees, O'Connell looked around at the destruction around him. Oh, she hadn't killed everyone. No, this was a warning blow. A taste of things to come. He could recognize the intent.

He groaned, tempted to just lay down on the sand until someone bothered to check on him—assuming anyone would care. Med-Jai raced around frantically, checking on fallen brothers and sisters and children. He wouldn't be a priority, he knew and that was okay. If the situation was reversed he would feel the same way.

The drive up had gifted them with the terrible vision of running Med-Jai women and children, scattered warriors and an immortal testing her fledgling powers. None of the Med-Jai had been able to cause damage to her. A lot of the ones who had tried now lay dead. Rick would have been one of them, too, had Ancksunamun not gotten her fill of blood. He coughed and thanked God Evy hadn't been here. She would probably be dead if that were so.

A form dropped down beside him and Rick turned his aching head to see Jonathan. A cut marred his forehead and a decidedly annoyed expression proved he was not without his hurts. "Bloody hell," he breathed and Rick couldn't have agreed more. This was like hell and Ancksunamun had only begun.

Rick laid down and groaned out, tired beyond belief and hurting all over. Evy's brother wiped a hand over his brow and nodded as if sharing some private thought of the ex-Legionnaire's. "This is bad," Rick observed, wondering how they were supposed to handle this. Ancksunamun wasn't cursed like Imhotep, therefore the same incantation wasn't going to work. "I wonder if Imhotep would let us kill him to stop her."

Jonathan grunted and grinned, looking around at the trashed camp. The Englishman gave a tired breath and shook his head. "I don't think Evy would appreciate that very much. I wouldn't suggest it with her around, anyway."

"Yeah." That's really all he had the energy to stay. They had tried to fight her and failed and they had tried to save others and had minor success at best. Still, he supposed any success was good. But this was only the beginning. He sighed and thought aloud, "I wonder where Codei and Karl got off to."

"Not sure," Jonathan replied, knocking his shoulder with his eyes turned up and out. "Look alive, Rick. We've got company. Is that that Med-Jai we helped last time around?"

O'Connell groaned at that and dragged himself into a sitting position, muttering, "I might look alive, but I sure as hell refuse to feel it." An older Med-Jai approached and extended a helping hand. He was the same man. Omar, as Rick recalled. "Thanks," Rick offered, wincing and doubling over at the pain in his side. The Med-Jai wrapped an arm around him to aid his faltering steps. "Where we goin'?

Omar exhaled and pulled O'Connell along, casting a momentary glance to see if Jonathan were following. Satisfied that he was, he replied, "To rest. I'm taking you to a tent where you may sleep."

Rick looked ahead through half-lidded eyes and nodded dizzily. "Rest sounds good."

The tent offered one bed which Rick, being the more injured between he and Jonathan, took gratefully. The Med-Jai eased him down and grabbed a chair for Jonathan. "I'll have a cot brought in for you," he assured the Englishman, who sat down wearily. "Rest assured. I have spoken to a few of the elders and in light of the fact that you tried to help, they grant you leave once your injuries are healed. Until then you may stay here in the tent of Ardeth Bay." Omar looked away at that and rushed out.

Jonathan grunted and leaned back in his chair, stretching cramped arms and yawning. "Ardeth's tent, huh? I think I'll have a bit of a look around in that case." He chuckled. "Let's see what the old boy's hiding, hmm?"

Cuddling the pillow to his head, Rick closed his eyes and groaned again, thankful he wasn't standing anymore. "Mmyep. If you find any alcohol send it my way, will ya?" Silence answered his jest and Rick peeked through one eye. Jonathan was now standing in front of a chest of drawers, his fingers wiggling curiously as they wrapped around the handle of one. "You haven't gone through my room, have you?"

The drawer slid open and Jonathan rummaged around absently. "Hmm? Oh, yes actually. I've no sense of minding my own business, Rick. You should know that by now. I found that picture of…oh, what was her name? Rita the Rose?" He looked at Rick thoughtfully and snapped his fingers. "Lena the Lily?"

Rick huffed and closed his eyes. "Tori the Tulip. She was a sweet girl. I hope that Med-Jai don't come back and catch you doing that. Might get us thrown out of here, you know. If it does, you'll be carrying me back to Cairo."

"Oh," Jonathan sighed, scratching his head. He shut the drawer and Rick smirked. "Right. Wait until tonight when they think we've gone to bed."

It was a good thing he closed it, too, because as soon as Jonathan hit the chair the tent flap opened and two Med-Jai carrying a cot came in and set it down, then left as the other Med-Jai entered again. Jonathan gave him his chair as he sank into the offered cot. "I am Omar," he said in a deep voice as he looked between the two outlanders. "You recall me?"

Rick could remember finding Evy in the desert near the Temple of Set, crying because she couldn't get Omar to safety and because she had left Ardeth behind to endure Ancksunamun. It seemed strange, how events now echoed the ones of before. "Yeah," he replied with a nod, taking a breath and smiling. "We raised Imhotep together. How could I forget?" A bat of those eyelashes made the Med-Jai shake his head with a grin.

Omar took a deep breath and nodded, running a hand through his long hair. "We're in a good mess, my friend. Incidentally, I think you should know that your priest friend is in danger. The Med-Jai are not very happy that he walks the earth."

Smirking at that, Rick inhaled and yawned. "Yeah, I figured that would come up someday. Always trying to kill someone I love or my friends love, anyway. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for killing Imhotep sometimes, but Evy would be real sad and frankly you people piss me off." He cracked an eye open and saw Omar regarding him steadily. "Sorry. Tired and cranky. I'm being rude right now, huh? What are they gonna do to Ardeth?"

The old Med-Jai's eyes grew sad and Rick regretted his sarcasm. He forced his eyes to remain open and attentive. "I'm not sure, O'Connell. Do you know what's come over him? Is this some ancient ghost from the past?"

O'Connell swallowed and shrugged, not sure anymore or whether or not he should lie. "It was," he decided to answer, then sighed. "I don't know any more. That Codei told me what they think Ardeth did, but I just can't see it. I know you people have had him for thirty or so years, but I just…I don't know. I know him. He's not like that. Maybe Akhenre isn't as gone as Evy thought."

With a soft, distant expression Omar gazed continuously at the sand. This ordeal hurt him every bit as much as it did Rick and the others, he could see. Maybe all Med-Jai weren't as harsh as their so-called council. "You've had him for a month. Tell me how he has been." Dark eyes slid to Rick's own blue ones with apprehensive curiosity.

Rick sighed and found it difficult to talk about. None of them really talked about it. None but Evy. Rick wasn't very good at that sort of thing and Jonathan hadn't known what to say to ease their friend's suffering. Imhotep had rumoredly tried once or twice, but in the end it all had lead them here. "He was okay. Sad and lost, but he had us. I'm not entirely sure if all his suffering was just him or if it was that Akhenre working on him, but we were there for him. We were all pretty angry with the Med-Jai for what they did to him."

Omar's eyes were very thoughtful and very regretful. This was the man Ardeth had mentioned thinking of as a second father, Rick recalled. He looked up and smiled, taking the outlander's hand in his own. "Thank you, Rick O'Connell. Thank all of you." He stood up and exited, leaving Rick and Jonathan in confusion. Neither said anything. Both were too tired.

*

Ardeth lay there on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. Each moment that passed was a sign that he had not left this earth, not left his task incomplete. He could feel the strength slowly returning to his body and knew it would soon be time.

His side ached, but that was only a minor inconvenience. His heart ached as well, but that was what drove him. He drew strength from his pain instead of weariness. Soon Ancksunamun would come and he would do what he had to. And he would be loved. Evy would love him through this, or so she had promised. That also gave him strength—gave him a small flicker of renewed hope. She had always been there for him when he needed her. Imhotep was a blessed man.

The priest came not long after that observation and knelt above Ardeth, holding the precious dagger away as if to keep him from using it to fight his demons. Imhotep looked him over and nodded gravely. "You are worthy," he announced, but Ardeth had already come to that conclusion.

Evy stood above with grief in her dark eyes and Ardeth sighed, wishing he could take that away from her. _Soon_, he wanted to tell her, but was too tired. Someday she and the others would be elsewhere doing other things, the events of these past few months forgotten.

Soon he would have his revenge.

*

~I've decided to go ahead and post the last two together since they are both complete, even if the next chapter is a little longer than this. I hope anyone reading has enjoyed this, even if it was a bit darker and sadder than usual. I went for different and got it, huh? Hehehe. Oye.

Thank you to **Marcher** and **Lula** for reviewing the last chapter. What would I do without you two?? :-) Thanks anyone else who might be reading…take cover for the next chapter! :-O Lol. Actually, I should be taking cover.

Angela 


	20. Passion

**Passion**  
Passion

**_Be a light for all to see, for every act of love will set you free.  
_**_Live the Life, on Live the Life by Michael W. Smith_

*

Evy wrapped her arms around herself and watched Ardeth wince, propped against the wall, shivering as Imhotep tended his wounded side. So many emotions were running through her mind right now she barely knew what to say when spoken to or what to think from one moment to the next. There was a well of panic inside as if butterflies the size of bats were fluttering around her stomach. And she kept rubbing at her arms as if it would make breathing any easier. Evy was scared.

The anticipation of doom was a sickly feeling, helpless and hopeless and utterly tiring. Her muscles were tense and her throat constricted. A few times tears even made it past her eyelids, tears that Imhotep wiped away when he saw them. She felt completely sick and wanted this day to both end and never come at all.

Ardeth said very little of how he felt or about the experience of being ordained. He said very little about anything. She would have guessed the fear was smothering them all, but for the grim determination set in both sets of dark eyes, one man determined to die that this madness end and the other determined to obey a master that abused him. This felt all wrong. Rick would come, or the Med-Jai or Jonathan or anyone to get them out of this.

"Nefertiri," Imhotep said in a quiet, thick voice and she turned to face them at the interruption. He saw her wide eyes and his reflected regret and a solemn duty. "Please sit, princess. You're putting too much stress on yourself."

"I can't." It came out a little more panicked than she had wanted and both men watched her with sad eyes. It made her angry. How dare they not feel as anguished as she felt? How dare they be strong enough to handle this while she felt like hiding in the dark. Evy stalked to the other side of the room, then turned back. "I can't sit. I just…I can't."

Imhotep exhaled and looked down. Ardeth watched her intently. Neither spoke. The silence was like being in a car driving too fast towards a brick wall.

Imhotep was going to die. She thought it over again and almost whimpered at the reality. His chance to have a normal life was slipping further away each second that passed. Yet what was the alternative? Ardeth fighting Set and dying? Then Ancksunamun would really let her vengeance show. Or worse yet, what if by some chance Ardeth won this impossible battle? Then Ancksunamun would be more terrible than even now.

The tense atmosphere grew still and Evy brushed her hair away from her face, watching both men interact. Sworn enemies bound together now by the same woman who had damaged them both. Leaning against a wall across from them, she relived the events of the past few months. Everything was still so fresh. Everything. Every wound and every moment of love.

"Evy," a voice called softly and she looked nervously into Ardeth's pale face. There were still traces of that melancholy there, but she could see the evidence of healing…or acceptance. One or both. "Please, sit down. Don't let your child suffer." His gentle voice asked for her to let go.

At his soft command she slid down the wall, sniffling and wiping frantically at her cheeks. "I know. I'm not being a good mother right now, am I? But Imhotep… And everything." She closed her mouth before the inevitable babbling began.

Ardeth shook his head and inhaled deeply. Calmly. Even that frightened her in a way. She would rather be anywhere right now, anywhere on earth but here. "You will be a wonderful mother, Evelyn Carnahan. And Imhotep will make a," he winced in pain, "a good father. He won't stop me. Neither of you will."

With an angry face Imhotep turned on Ardeth, hitting his shoulder none too gently and snapping, "Shut up, Med-Jai! Do not fill her with false hopes!"

"I'm not," Ardeth replied just as strongly, then sighed as his weakness drained him. He adjusted his seating and repeated softly, "I'm not. I will not let you stop me, Imhotep. No matter what you believe."

The priest got to his feet and began pacing in front of Ardeth, using angry tones that betrayed fear if one knew how to listen to him for it. Imhotep shook his head and glared at everything his eyes met and Evy frowned in hurt for him. "I will stop you. I hold the dagger. I hold the responsibility. Lie there in your weakness and enjoy your rest while you can, for when I am gone Nefertiri will have a battle with Ancksunamun as a mortal. I trust you will help her if you can."

Ardeth leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, exhaling a deep, soul-weary breath. "There will be no need." Imhotep did not reply to the argument and stopped pacing.

Instead the priest focused his attention on his love. He came to where she worried and got to his knees beside her, knowing his time grew short. Evy found herself being wrapped into warm arms with soft lips pressing against her own, demanding she calm down and submit. After a few more moments of trembling, she did, allowing him to explore her mouth as she so rarely did. Evy whimpered into his kiss, her heart lamenting at these grievous events. Why did anyone have to die?

Imhotep kissed like he would never taste her again, racing from her lips to her jaw line and throat, then back to her mouth once more. It made Evy blush at his open display of affection for she knew Ardeth was here, able to watch these things she kept so private—things he had shared in even, when possessed of Akhenre. 

He felt her concentration fail and sat back to stroke her cheek softly. "I love you, princess," her priest whispered and Evy closed her eyes, pulling him back to her mouth again. Her open arms begged him for a place to hide, but he could not award her with what she needed. Imhotep pulled away and again looked her face over with shining eyes. "Do you remember how to fight? Do you remember the contests between you and Ancksunamun?"

With a whimpered swallow, Evy nodded, tracing his cheeks with warm hands and memorizing every detail. "I remember. I'll make her suffer for this." Her voice took on a hard edge.

"Shh. No. Stop her for the world, not revenge. Is that not what you told me last time?" Imhotep kissed her forehead and smiled softly. "Don't let your light go out," he added, then sat back and shot a glance towards Ardeth, who had his eyes averted to offer them some sort of privacy. "Help him find his."

She could do nothing but nod at his requests, finding everything in this state saturating and too much for her to bear. He stood up and went to check on his patient, his newly made priest and Evelyn took a shuddering breath, trying to calm herself, but the dread was nagging and heavy. It clawed at her energy, weighing her down before the fight even began.

And begin, it soon did. A chill spread through Evy when Ancksunamun's form blocked the waning light at the entrance and for a few precious seconds she took the time to glare, allowing her fury at this woman to shine through her dark eyes. It did little to effect the proud concubine, who merely smiled at the gesture.

Ancksunamun entered warily and looked around for assurance that all was as she would have it be. Apparently some things were not as they should. A gasp escaped her lips when she saw Ardeth's fallen state and Imhotep hovering near, and amused eyes became angered. "What have you done to my servant?" she demanded of the priest and Imhotep stood up with a cold expression.

"I have ordained him," he said darkly, cutting the air and Evy shivered at that repressed anger. Imhotep advanced without fear, drawing Ardeth's dagger with purpose. "And now I will stop you."

She let an evil smirk curl her crimson lips as she faced down the advancing priest. Evy felt her lips tremble when Ancksunamun backhanded him, sending him to the floor in her immortal strength. No, not this way. He couldn't suffer this way. Wiping a few stray tears, Evy pushed herself from the wall and began for them, but Imhotep held up a hand to warn her back. "Stay back!" he snapped and reluctantly she gave in to that command, more tears threatening her vision.

Ancksunamun looked very puzzled by the seriousness in the room. Her eyes flitted to Ardeth, then back to Imhotep and she laughed in realization. "So you seek to kill yourself to stop me, Imhotep?" she surmised, striking out with her foot and kicking the dagger from Imhotep, who now hovered on his knees. It flew across the room and he leapt for it, but the priestess stopped him. Evy covered her mouth and blinked when Ancksunamun slammed her foot into Imhotep's cheek, knocking him to the floor and possibly unconscious.

The High Priest of Osiris groaned and brought himself up, however, staggering towards the dagger and when Ancksunamun kicked him again, Evy ran to attack as she had intended. "The knife," Imhotep wheezed, sending himself forward into Ancksunamun to ward off any interference. "Nefertiri, you must get me the knife!"

He asked her to help him do this thing, help him commit suicide for their sakes? Every muscle in her body ached from being tense as she forced herself to take that first step. The dagger lay near the exit to Hamunaptra, across the way from Ardeth and Ancksunamun stood between she and her task with divided attention. She was as strong as Imhotep had been the first time Evy had seen him beneath this dead city, knocking him back as he had O'Connell once upon a time.

Her gaze turned to Nefertiri while Imhotep struggled to keep himself from giving in to the tide of pain wracking his body from the concubine's beating. Evy backed away, knowing she could not get the dagger yet. Ancksunamun closed in and slapped her viciously and Evy found herself suddenly on her hands and knees beneath her.

The cruelty would extend further, if allowed, but the princess planned for it. Evy dropped completely down and turned her back to the priestess just in time to protect her stomach from Ancksunamun's kick. She cried out when the foot hit her back bruisingly hard.

Ancksunamun would not let her be, though. She dropped to her knees and flipped the princess over with firm and grim intent. "I'm going to kill your child," she asserted and Evy struggled beneath her grasp.

Instantly Imhotep had the priestess away, pouncing on her and dragging her off to protect his child. "The dagger!" he reminded her and Evy pulled herself together enough to get up and begin for the knife now that her way was clear.

A voice stopped her though, holding her back as if by physical manifestation. It was weak and pained and had all the force of a train crash. "Evelyn," Ardeth groaned and the room seemed to silence under so lowly a sound. "Evelyn, come to me." Fear crept towards her inner walls.

She stopped walking and whipped around to see what he needed and her eyes went wide in shock. Ardeth tried to double over, but couldn't. The hilt of another dagger and the pain such a movement caused barred his way. His lashes fluttered, but his gaze was intense—a gaze she would never forget for as long as she lived. Even Imhotep and Ancksunamun froze at his call. So she and Imhotep had not been able to stop him after all. She now understood what he had accepted. Not servitude, but martyrdom.

Ardeth weakly stretched forth his hand, beckoning her to his side with a gentle firmness she could not disobey. Evy forgot the dagger beneath that penetrating stare and pulled herself out of her startlement long enough to get her legs working. She fell beside him and felt a new wave of panic storm over her body as she moaned, "Oh, Ardeth," feeling tears race down her cheeks again. Her hand hovered over the dagger in indecision and need.

"Ardeth? My slave?" Ancksunamun cried out, but Imhotep kept her busy, no longer asking for the dagger. Evy found it easy to ignore the sounds of fighting from behind. He would last this time as he had before. This man would not.

"Eve," Ardeth breathed, wrapping weak fingers around her wrist. The touch caused a rush of nausea to flood over her. Her heart trembled at the shaking she felt through that hand. "Do you…know…the chant?"

Evy felt herself nod without even considering the question being asked. Somewhere from behind there came a crash and an enraged howl from Ancksunamun, but she couldn't turn away to look for her own safety. Ardeth's eyes held hers in unbreakable contact and she knew without question that he would die. She blinked as tears came without hesitance, heedless of the desire somewhere inside for them to stop so she could hide the hurt to comfort him. Evy could only stare in helpless shock, unable to do a thing but watch this happen. She couldn't even get herself to think enough to feel and wondered how her eyes knew to cry.

Ardeth blinked and groaned, but never took his eyes from hers. The pain gripped him and that hand so tightly wound around her wrist eased its hold after a moment. His breathing started to come hard and he was having trouble staying up. All these little things happened in mere seconds, but seemed to take a lifetime to pass before her eyes. "I would never…have…" He stopped his quiet talk with unshed tears in his eyes, fearing he might not be able to tell her what he needed to. "Never hurt you."

"I know," she replied in a thick voice as she leaned forward, placing a kiss first on his forehead, then his lips. He closed his eyes against such tender, private emotions and she finally started to feel her walls crumbling. Evy pulled away as a shudder passed over his body. Ardeth tensed and groaned out as she helplessly observed, knowing she could do nothing to ease his pain. She held his hand as they waited for the storm to pass.

When it subsided Ardeth fought to point to the paper he had dropped last night, murmuring, "My father," as his time neared. Evy took notice and catalogued where the letter was, then glanced up as Imhotep dodged Ancksunamun and ran, drawing her away from the death happening nearby. Her breath seemed to echo loudly in her ears.

Turning back brought a very frightening image to her eyes. He lay motionless and icy cold fear seared her heart as she worried that she had let him die alone. Gripping his shirt and unable to stop her walls from falling down, Evy cried, "Ardeth? _Ardeth?_" She could have sobbed when he swallowed and drew a shuddering breath.

Evy curled against him, but watched his face, knowing how important it was that she see his death that she could complete her task in this terrible event. He now kept his eyes closed and she entertained the possibility that he did so that she wouldn't see the light in him leave. "I…I forgive her," he whispered, pressing his lips against her forehead and knitting his brows. He was fighting to stay. "I love…you." Evy wiped at her eyes, unable to see clearly with that statement.

Ardeth allowed his to open once more with intense emotion reflected there, so penetrating she might have looked away under normal circumstances. "I love you," he repeated, searching her for the same feeling and understanding.

All she could do was raise a shaking hand to his brow, which drew a smile as he again closed his eyes. For the last time.

Ardeth's head bowed against her hand and all the hurt inside her came free, bringing voice to her grief. He didn't deserve this. What had he done to deserve Ancksunamun's brutal treatment, then this? "Dear Lord," she breathed, scarcely able to pull air back into her body. Tears clouded her vision and her chest began aching.

Another emotion began singing to her being, filling her veins and pulling the wool over her wisdom as she forced herself to remember what else was going on. Anger. Evelyn pulled the dagger carefully from his body as if he would feel it and laid him down, then turned on the staring priestess, who had stopped her fighting to watch her victim die. Strangely enough, she looked pained. "Ardeth forgives you, but I don't!" Evy hissed quickly, holding the blade hard as she began the chant.

Ancksunamun backed away now, knowing the final step in this ritual would be cutting her and mingling the blood of a priest of Osiris with hers. The blood was already on the dagger and the loss of her powers would be instantaneous. From behind Imhotep grabbed her, holding her into him so Evy could do what she had to.

She knit her brows and Imhotep's expression grew alarmed as she held the knife poised with all her hatred as the driving force. Evy let her hand fall and Ancksunamun yelled out, but the dagger met no flesh. Imhotep twisted the weapon from Evy's hand and stole it, then knocked her to the floor. She fell and glared up, watching the priest take matters into his own dirty hands.

The deadly priestess who had abused Ardeth and corrupted Imhotep screamed when the dagger pressed into her chest, finding rest between her fourth and fifth ribs in an upward thrust, ultimately damaging the heart her spirit had little to no communication with. Evy cherished that scream despite the sickness it brought on her. She wanted Ancksunamun to suffer for stealing Ardeth from her. She wanted it badly, so it would cover the pain. Imhotep twisted the knife, cracking her ribs and drawing out her hurt, then tossed her shaking body aside roughly to let her die on the floor, alone with no warm contact.

"Why did you stop me?" Evy cried through grit teeth, pulling herself up with a livid expression. She threw herself at him, but found little strength to expend her anger. He grabbed her wrists and kept her from the blows that would have rained down on him until finally she gave in.

Pulling away, Evy forced herself to peer around Imhotep as if the reality hadn't sunk in yet. The coldness of it hit her again when she saw that Ardeth's unmoving form still lay in the same position she had left him in. Her stomach fluttered painfully at the sight and in a panicked voice she said, "Oh God, what am I going to tell Rick and Jonathan? What are they going to say? I can't…I can't do this!" Imhotep pulled her close again, turning her away from Ardeth and she rested her head on his chest, cries shaking her. "Why?"

Evelyn pillowed her head against his shoulder and fought the grief that resurfaced. She didn't even care for the victory they had just won. She could only see the eyes. Evy felt hands on her, but the silence was too deafening for her to take comfort. Tears devoured her whole as she let the last of her walls be destroyed and sobs overtook her. 

Imhotep gave no answer, said nothing and did nothing but sooth her back and brush her hair with his fingers. Evy buried her face against him and said nothing else, unable to believe after all their struggles it had ended this way. But at least Ardeth had found peace from the dark in doing what was of his nature. She would celebrate that, even if she grieved everything else.

*

Omar rubbed his arms and stood at the threshold of his tent, searching the dusky skies for answers. Searching his heart. Each day the temptation to leave and go looking for him assailed the old Med-Jai, but he knew he shouldn't. Ardeth had to find himself and the unwanted aid of a father that had not been there in the way he should have would be more a hindrance than a help. Still, it curbed the desire no less.

A presence made itself apparent behind him; a small hand rested upon his back. "He'll come home, my husband." Selimah pressed her lips against his shoulder and he sighed, feeling heavy of heart. The night began to fall with breezy gusts of sand and all felt quiet and strange. "He needs time to find out who he truly is."

"He is my son," Omar whispered, taking her hand and kissing it with a wry smile as he turned to face her. "That may take him a long while."

The Med-Jai woman that stood below shook her head, looking up through loving eyes that made him tremble inside even after all these years. "That may be, but when he does he'll understand what kind of heart beats within him. Then nothing will stand in his way."

Her soft words struck him and disarmed his fears with their truth. Tracing her cheek gently, he let some of the worry abate. Ardeth was no ordinary man and Omar liked to think that was because he belonged to Insitara. He could see her eyes in his son's and it would remind him of just how consuming love could be. "I love you for understanding me, Selimah," he whispered, drawing her closer for a kiss.

But a commotion broke his advance. His hand still tilting her chin, Omar turned his head towards the fuss that was going on at the entrance to camp. "Come," he said gently, and his wife nodded.

Together they made their way to the front and saw what the uproar was about. He came towards them with no fear in his dark eyes and purpose in his bearing as he urged his horse, and another with a cloth-wrapped burden on. Behind him rode a woman draped in a black cloak—a Med-Jai cloak, with a hood pulled over her head to cover her from the sun, her arms around her companion's waist.

This was the man they had feared for 3,000 years, the evil they had fought so hard to prevent from emerging into the world and who arrived within sight at great risk. He rode freely, almost defiantly towards them as if their hatred of him were no more than a mere annoyance. Omar caught sight of several warriors with guns aimed, but they wouldn't shoot yet. Not with the Carnahan woman there and not before they found out why he dared approach their land.

From behind Omar heard the sounds of shuffling and complaints made in English. O'Connell and Carnahan made their way from the tent of his son to see what was happening. They stopped short beside him and remained silent.

High Priest Imhotep saw their distrustful glances, their hate-filled sneers, but did not back down. At the entrance to the camp he stopped the horses and dismounted, then helped the black-clad Evelyn down. Omar saw her wipe her cheeks and keep her face downcast as Imhotep turned back to the growing crowd of Med-Jai and called out in a rich voice, speaking the ancient tongue that very few of them understood. Omar understood it, but before he could answer the summons the woman translated. "I seek the father of Ardeth Bay."

"Ardan Bay is dead," answered a gruff voice that rattled Omar thoroughly.

He was proud to be Ardeth's father, but would he return that pride in his father when his secrets were known? Whether or not he would ever accept him, Omar could not let it rest any longer. He inhaled and looked to his wife for guidance and Selimah nodded, confirming what he knew he must do. There was a reason someone was looking for _him_ directly. Only Ardeth could have sent that message. He stepped out of the crowd and called, "I am the father of Ardeth Bay."

There were whispers as he and Selimah—O'Connell and Carnahan close behind, pressed through into the open and a few people even addressed him, but Omar did not answer. Questions would be answered later. Right now he needed to know what concerned his son. When they came before the High Priest, Imhotep bowed his head in respect, startling Omar to the core, but that was forgotten when an envelope was produced. He gave it to the older Med-Jai with grave eyes and said, "Ardeth bid my lady give this to you."

Omar looked over to Evelyn as her friends rejoined her and watched as she wrapped herself into O'Connell's arms, whispering so softly the old Med-Jai could not hear her words. The young man's embrace tightened considerably as his head fell to her shoulder. Carnahan turned away and gazed into the desert. These movements seemed somehow quiet and alone. A heaviness of another kind settled into the pit of his stomach as he took the envelope and opened it slowly, remembering what the other horse bore. He removed a paper, but found it hard to continue, so he handed it to his wife to read first, fearing what would be written there. Omar rested his eyes on the second horse.

Selimah took the letter and opened it, the sound of the paper rustling echoing through his ears and burning into his memory. She remained silent a moment, then slowly the sound caught his attention. Her breath caught a few times as when one began to weep, but her voice remained rock solid for his benefit. When her hand rested upon his shoulder, Omar swallowed and waited for what would be said, feeling sick suddenly. "Your son has become who he was created to be, my love. Be proud of him."

The paper hit his hand and he accepted it, knowing he needed to see his son's words for himself. He brought it up to his eyes, at first not able to comprehend the letters through the fear and sorrow welling up inside, but Omar forced himself to calm down. This was important. Tears found his eyes as he began to read.

_My Father,_

_Sometimes when I think about that title belonging to you it seems unreal. I still cannot believe it half the time, but then a memory of you will find my thoughts and it becomes all too clear. Maybe a part of me has always known, or suspected I think. You were always there for me when my father, when Ardan could not be. And when he could, you were there in the background, watching over me still. I understand your reasons for hiding these secrets and I forgive you. I love you and yes, I was proud to be of the Bay family and proud to be Ardan's son, but that makes me no less proud to be yours. You followed your heart with my mother and she with you, when her hope was lost._

_I suppose I should have taken long weeks to work through to these conclusions, but I don't have that long. I go to my death for all of you, for everyone I love. Ancksunamun is again a threat, but I mean to stop her this time—for good. I will unbind her from her unholy demon and hopefully that will end her terrible power. To unbind her will require the sacrifice of my life, so I regret that I can't come home to see you again before this is done. Just know that I love you and Selimah and my sisters. I'm doing what my life calls for me to do. I'm saving you._

_Please write a letter to the Carnahans' address. You'll find a book in my tent with it written down inside. Tell them I love them. Tell Rick I already miss fighting by his side. With his honor and courage he should have been a Med-Jai. To Jonathan say that I am deeply sorry for when I killed his sister, but that I thank him for forgiving me that grievance. It means a lot to me that he could. To Imhotep, my enemy who is not, say that I am glad he found redemption. And to Evelyn, whom I love the most, say simply that, for she was always there for me when I needed her._

_I love you, Father._

_Ardeth_

Omar folded the paper with shaking fingers, blinking away the salty sting of his tears. He covered his mouth and fought for a few minutes, trying to force the breath back into his body. His eyes hit the other horse again, the one carrying the wrapped form. Then he looked up to Imhotep for confirmation. "Did he do what he set out to do?"

Imhotep nodded with compassionate eyes. "I tried to go in his place, but he had concealed another weapon, you see. I did not know he had it and before I could end my own life, he ended his. His sacrifice unbound her and erased her power. It was that which allowed me to finish her and burn her body so she could not return. He did not die alone. Nef—Evelyn was by his side until the end."

"She was always there when he needed her," Omar echoed the letter, looking to the shivering woman nearby. She sniffled when she drew back her hood and he saw her crying as O'Connell pulled away, keeping his back turned to hide his grief. "He said…"

Evy nodded, taking his hand when he reached towards her. "I read it. I'm so sorry. I wish…"

Closing his eyes and drawing this kind woman into his embrace, Omar nodded. "I wish, too, child. Oh God, do I wish, too." He felt her shudder against him in her grief, which in turn drew more emotion out of him. He blinked rapidly, trying to see the desert over her shoulder, but failed.

When he pulled back, he touched her cheek and looked up to Imhotep. "Thank you, as well, for bringing me this letter at the danger of your own life."

The priest nodded his head and looked around him at the puzzled Med-Jai. "Your son was an honorable man, far more so than I could have attained. I owed him this and more for many reasons, the chief being his love for Evelyn." He took a breath and returned his eyes to Ardeth's father. "I would have gone in his place had there been time."

Omar wiped his wet cheeks and looked down at the letter in his hands, then offered a smile of gratitude. His son had found himself. He had found peace and done what would have made his mother and Ardan proud. What now made Omar prouder than he'd ever been in his life. Ardeth had given himself up for the sake of others, showing himself to be of only the greatest character.

The old Med-Jai turned back on the crowd and held the letter high, wanting them to share in his pride. "Know this, my people," he began, again wiping his cheeks. He didn't know if he would ever keep them dry now. "A little over thirty years ago I and a women I loved nearly as deeply as my own wife did something that was wrong, something that dishonored a man we both loved dearly when we thought he was ripped away from our lives. That wrong, however, resulted in one of the greatest things I could have given this world. Ardeth Bay is my son and he…comes home a hero. He gave his life and saved us and I've never been more grieved than this moment, but never so gratified to have my sin forgiven and such grace come of it." His voice faltered as the reality of never hearing his son speak, never seeing those brown eyes smile, never hearing that laugh hit him like a sword. All was silent when he hid his eyes against his wife's shoulder as another storm of tears hit, but soon he heard the sounds of them taking Ardeth down from his horse.

"Rick, no," Evelyn was saying as he did his best—with the help of Jonathan—to help the Med-Jai that were bearing Ardeth's body.

O'Connell wiped his face and shook his head, trying to maintain his calm as he replied shakily, "No, Evy. Don't…don't stop me this time." He smiled and touched her face. "You can push me around after all you want, but let me do this. Okay?" The woman nodded and wiped her face.

Jonathan braced O'Connell with the weight he carried and gave his sister a reassuring nod. "Don't you worry, baby sister. I'll be right here."

"Stop," Omar commanded, bringing himself up from her and carried. He drew the cloth back and forced his eyes upon the face of his child, who looked peaceful as if sleeping. His heart cried out in mourning at the sight of those eyes so like hers, closed forever now. "My son, you do me honor," he whispered, unable to speak any louder than that.

They began towards the healer's tent where he would be prepared, but something kept Evelyn and the priest behind. A few Med-Jai were threatening him with their scimitars and Omar shook his head. "Give him leave, men. He tried to save my son and for that I ask you give him leave until after we have mourned." They would not refuse a grieving father this.

As he turned back to face the tent Omar found it difficult to continue. He watched the priest pass, sent on ahead by his woman and turned into her tear-streaked face when she came to his side. "Thank you, child," he whispered, touching her face gently, looking at the cloak that she wore and deciding to let her keep it if that was her wish. "Thank you for being with him. For loving him."

Evelyn took his hand and gathered it to her cheek with a soft smile and tears as she nodded. "He walked in the dark for us all," she told him in a soft voice. "He loved us that much. I just wish I knew if he understood how much that love was returned." Two tears slid down her pale cheeks.

Omar gathered this young girl into his arms and drew her on towards the tent, now not so afraid. When these outlanders had come into Ardeth's life Omar had been wary, then angry when they took him away to England, but now he knew how wrong he had been. He let himself love them as freely as his son had and it gave him strength.

"I think he knew."

*

~Anyone reading, before you kill me, just remember: _Death is only the beginning_. I tried to leave as many clues as I could that he was gonna go, but I'm not the type that blatantly warns of character deaths, nor pairings anymore really. Just ah, be nice, mmkay? Pleaaaase? I…I…even have ideas for a sequel—actually, some of the stuff in this story sets up the next installment, assuming anyone's interested after this…hehehe.

Anyway, I did it to show just how NOT of the darkside he truly was. Tragic poetic bittersweet beauty. I know this story was a bit different and probably didn't appeal to all the viewers as Fury did and I'm sorry for that, but I am glad for the people who did read and review…and hope they won't be angry at this ending. At any rate, people don't tend to stay dead in these universes, ya know? Thank god. :-D 

All for the art to make him beautiful. He gave his life to save them, had intended that from the first—was walking the darkside so he could survive to do what he had to, and in the end did the most loving thing he could to save everyone.

So thank you to anyone who read, who hopefully will review and who hopefully will keep in mind that he doesn't have to stay this way. Please be kind. I might not have done this had I not had an idea up my sleeve for another installment. :-)

Angela


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